Hunt for the Intangible
by Mistress 259
Summary: Kuroro can suddenly access his nen again. Suspecting a trap, he seeks out Kurapika to find out what's going on and discovers that the boy has disappeared from the Nostrad mansion. He searches for the boy and learns something surprising.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I USE THE _HUNTER'S GUIDE _ SPELLINGS FOR THE CHARACTERS' NAMES (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, NOT the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island arc and beyond. Basically, an AU fic. I'd also like to point out that Lynlyn inspired me to begin writing this. Thanks, Lynlyn!

This has been edited and re-posted 2/7/07 due to an error on my part... (see my LJ for details)

Standard disclaimers apply...

**Hunt for the Intangible - Chapter 1**

Nobunaga stared at the phone in shock. He let it ring one more time before hitting the button and holding the device to his ear.

"...Hello?"

"Nobunaga? Why have I been having so much trouble reaching the Ryodan? I've tried Phynkss, Syarnorke, Phalcnothdk,..."

"Dancho?" Nobunaga interrupted in disbelief. Matiy was immediately by his side, trying to grab the phone from his hand. Fulunkln and Vonnornoth stared at him from across the room.

"Yes, it's I," came the impatient reply. "Now what's going on? Why can't I reach the others?"

"Dancho?" Nobunaga repeated. "How are you calling us? I thought the Chain Guy bound you with nen..."

There was a pause. "I'm not certain." Quwrof's voice was contemplative. "But I was suddenly aware that the nen had been lifted."

"So the Chain Guy is dead?"

Another pause. "I doubt it. I would probably be dead as well, if that were the case."

"I don't get it," Nobunaga said. "But does this mean you're coming back to us?"

"Not just yet. This could be a trap. He may have lifted the restriction so that I would lead him to the rest of the Ryodan."

"...Oh..." Nobunaga twisted away from Matiy who was mouthing the words, _Let me talk with him!_

"I'm going to try and locate the Chain Guy and find out what this is about. Once I know it's safe, or I've killed him, I'll rejoin you," Quwrof said.

"How will you find him, Dancho?"

"I'll start with the Nostrads. Even if he's no longer with them, someone may know where he's gone."

Nobunaga nodded to himself. "Good plan."

"Back to my question, though, Nobunaga. Where are the others?" Quwrof sounded slightly annoyed. Which was unusual in itself and an indication of the normally unflappable man's agitated state.

"Oh, Heytun and Phynkss stole this nen game and went into it. And Syar, Chzzck, and Colhtophy went as well. You can't reach them by phone while they're in the game, I guess. And..." Nobunaga hesitated. "Phalc is dead. She revealed the Chain Guy's identity and secrets to us..."

Yet another pause. "I see," their leader responded. "You can inform them of the situation once the others return, I suppose. I'll be in touch."

"Wait! Dancho! Where are you right now? Are you going to be alright alone?"

"Nobunaga, who do you think you're talking to? I've been fine thus far, even without nen. And now I have access to my powers once more."

_Right..._ "Well, be careful, Dancho," Nobunaga couldn't help adding. The leader hung up without responding. Nobunaga tucked his phone away and turned to face the other three who were staring at him with expectant looks.

"Well?" Matiy demanded, arms crossed.

"It... uh... the situation has changed..."

-----

Sneaking onto the Nostrad property had been easy. Quwrof sat on the roof, looking out over the trees and lawn. He watched the dogs prowling, completely oblivious to his presence. He smiled. It was good to be able to use nen once more...

The Chain Guy didn't seem to be within the mansion. It was possible that the boy was using zetsu, but Quwrof doubted it. There was no reason for him to, unless he was expecting someone to be seeking him out. Quwrof could sense that woman's aura, however - that woman with the super-sensitive hearing. She was currently in the room immediately below him. But she was with Neon, and Quwrof preferred to not be seen by the girl, just in case she was bright enough to figure out that he was the reason she could no longer call upon her nen ability.

So he waited.

And he continued thinking about his situation.

He had been sitting in a cafe, waiting for the waiter to bring his coffee, when he had suddenly felt a change within him. It had taken a few moments to figure out what the change was.

The Judgement Chain had disappeared.

His first thought, like Nobunaga's, had been that the Chain Guy had died. But he immediately let that thought go, knowing that the boy's strong hatred of him would have manifested itself as an all-consuming power and destroyed Quwrof instantly, had the boy died. So his next thought was that the Chain Guy had lifted it voluntarily, possibly with the hope that Quwrof would go straight to the Ryodan and lead him to them. Asking the Chain Guy for the real reason probably wasn't going to get him the truth, but Quwrof still felt that he should try talking with the boy before rejoining the Ryodan. Which put him in his current location, on the roof of the Nostrad mansion.

He crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees. _So Phalc is dead._ He wasn't surprised. What had surprised him was that she had come alone to meet with the Chain Guy and had agreed to the Judgement Chain restrictions. He had been disappointed at that time as he stood and watched her ignore the Ryodan's beliefs and policies. There was no way that the Chain Guy would have killed him; he cared too much for his friends. It seemed, however, that Phalc had shared that trait as well... And so she died to make up for that lapse in judgement.

Quwrof sighed. If only she had waited for someone who could remove the Judgement Chain. But she had made her choice. In the end, she had been able to choose the Ryodan over her personal feelings. Quwrof should be pleased.

But he would miss that woman.

He stopped his musings as he felt the aura beneath him move. She, was her name Senritsu? was leaving the room by herself. Quwrof stepped across the roof easily, coming to a halt when he sensed the woman stopping. He walked to the end of the roof, knelt, grabbed the edge, and flipped down to the window ledge immediately below. He could see the woman standing by the dresser, opening a long, flat case. The window was locked, but Quwrof forced it open easily and stepped into the room. The diminutive woman whipped around to face him, nearly dropping the flute she had taken out of its case.

She stared at him wide-eyed. "What are you doing here?"

Quwrof sat on the bed and crossed his legs. "I was hoping you could tell me where the Chain Guy is."

The woman gave him an odd look. "Why? What do you want with Curarpikt?"

"I just want to speak with him," he responded smoothly. "Ask him a few questions."

"Well, he left a few days ago, and I don't know where he is," she said. For a brief moment, Quwrof saw worry flash across her face. He stared at her, interpreting her expression and body language. She was telling the truth

"When will he be back?"

"...I don't think that he'll be coming back. He said that he'd be in touch, but..." she murmured, looking away. Abruptly, she turned back. "And don't even try going to his other friends."

Quwrof tilted his head at the small woman. "He just packed up and left?"

She didn't respond.

"I didn't think he was the type to run."

Amazingly, the woman yelled at him. "And why shouldn't he want to run? After what you and your people did to his life! Do you have any idea how horrible it is to listen to his heartbeat? He has the worst nightmares imaginable, every night! And he's not like you people! He has nightmares about the deaths he's caused as well!"

Quwrof stared at her, a bit taken aback by her tirade. "Okay," he said simply. He stood. "I'd like to take a look at his room, if you'd be so kind as to direct me."

She blinked in surprise. "There's nothing there. He's taken his things with him. Not that he had that much to begin with..."

"Nevertheless, I'd like to see," the man said, gesturing for the woman to lead the way. She didn't move. Quwrof sighed. "I don't want to have to take drastic measures..."

The tiny woman flinched. "...This way," she said softly. Quwrof followed her into the empty hallway.

-----

It's good to have useful acquaintances. Using a small piece of bedding that Quwrof had procured from the Chain Guy's bedroom in the mansion, one such acquaintance was able to dowse for the Chain Guy's general location. He was apparently in the northeastern section of Sonisco City, a large coastal city less than day's drive from the Nostrad's mansion.

Thus, Quwrof found himself walking down a busy street of the city, trying to locate the Chain Guy's aura. After several hours of walking, however, he was beginning to wish that he had brought his acquaintance so that she could dowse more accurately. It was mid-afternoon by the time he finally sensed a familiar aura. Quwrof sharpened his senses and followed the aura. He eventually found himself on a street corner. He looked at the building before him. A bookstore.

_Why am I not surprised?_

He saw the familiar figure as soon as he entered the store. The blonde was standing behind the registers, turning away from Quwrof and reaching for a book on the shelf against the wall. He was holding a clipboard in his free hand. He was no longer dressed in tribal attire, instead wearing a dark blue store apron over a grey shirt and black pants.

_What the hell is going on?_

The man approached the registers warily and waited for the boy to turn around. The boy turned slowly, eyes moving between the book and the notations on the clipboard. He glanced upward, eyes meeting Quwrof's, then shocked the man by giving him a friendly smile.

"May I help you?" he asked and set both items upon the counter.

Quwrof gaped. He could see no sign of shock, fury, or recognition in those eyes.

"Sir?" the blond continued.

There was no doubt that the figure before him was the same one who had trapped him in nen chains, punched him brutally, and placed the Judgement Chain in his heart. Same pretty face, same large eyes, albeit not crimson at present, and the same hanging earrings peeking out from behind chin-length hair. But now, the boy completely lacked the previous hostility, anger, and deadliness.

Before he could stop himself, Quwrof blurted out, "What the hell are you doing here?"

The boy blinked twice. Then his eyes widened, and he leaned against the counter. "Do you know me?" He sounded excited.

The man stared back, absorbing the statement. "Uh... yes..."

The boy glanced at the clock on the wall behind him. "Listen, I'm off in twenty minutes. Could we talk? Do you have time?"

Quwrof nodded, too surprised to refuse. He left the counter and walked outside. He found a bench against the storefront and sat down, pulling out his phone as he did so. He punched in the speed dial for Nobunaga.

"Dancho?" came the man's voice.

"Nobunaga," Quwrof responded, "I've located the Chain Guy."

"Great! Did you kill him?"

"No."

"No?!"

Quwrof paused, uncertain of what to say. "...He doesn't know me."

"What the hell are you talking about, Dancho?"

"Exactly what I said. He seems to have lost his memory." He ran a hand through his dark hair. He hadn't bothered to style it, so his bangs hid the tattoo on his forehead.

"Well, kill him anyway." Quwrof grinned. He'd expected Nobunaga to say that.

"Nobunaga, it's not a proper revenge unless he knows who is killing him and why. Otherwise, it's just a plain murder, and where's the artistry in that?" Not that he hadn't committed his share of "plain murders"...

"...I suppose..." Nobunaga responded reluctantly. "So what are you going to do?"

Quwrof grinned again, anticipating the other's response. "We have a date."

"What?! What the hell are you doing, Dancho? Have you lost your mind?" the man exploded.

"Nobunaga."

"Sorry, Dancho." Nobunaga paused. "It's just... well, uh, what should I tell the others?"

"Tell them I'll be in touch."

-----

Quwrof couldn't help but stare at the figure before him. The blonde was perusing the menu, one slim hand fidgeting with the salt shaker. His right hand. The hand that, last time he saw, had rings and dangerous chains on it. Quwrof used gyou to confirm that, while the boy still emitted aura, it was nowhere near what it had been the last time they met.

"So, Quwrof Lucifer?" the blonde confirmed as he closed the menu. He regarded the dark-haired man curiously and with a hint of hope.

"Right," the man responded automatically, then belatedly wondered if he should have given a pseudonym. "And I never learned your last name, Curarpikt."

"I couldn't find one either," Curarpikt responded. Quwrof inclined his head, encouraging further explanation. "Well, I had a bag with me, and I found the name 'Curarpikt' in there..." the boy explained after a slight pause. "So, unless I have a bag that doesn't belong to me, I assumed that the name was mine. But no last name."

"I see..." Quwrof leaned back in his chair. "So you really don't remember who you are."

Curarpikt shook his head.

"For how long?"

The blonde tilted his head. "About a week. The first thing I remember is finding myself in an empty building."

"Here?"

"No, about two day's walk from here." The boy leaned against the table. "So, how do we know each other?"

Quwrof furrowed his brows. _What do I tell him? Well, kid, we're enemies determined to kill each other. I drove your tribe into extinction, and you killed one of my men in retaliation._ He sighed. "We're... friends. I don't know you that well, though, since we'd only just met a few months ago and hadn't spent much time together."

Curarpikt gave a disappointed sigh. "Oh. Well, it's better than nothing," he grinned.

The dark-haired man raised an eyebrow. He could not imagine the Chain Guy being so… easygoing. "You're taking this awfully well. You remember nothing, right?"

"No point in stressing. I'm hoping that I'll eventually remember. I don't think that I was in an accident, though," the blonde said lightly, looking out the window.

_He's lying..._ About what, though, Quwrof couldn't be certain.

"So, talk to me," Curarpikt said. He looked at Quwrof expectantly. "How do we know each other?"

"We... met in Yorkshin. At one of the outdoor auctions," Quwrof said, thinking quickly. "We bid on the same book. I won the bid, we talked a little, we had lunch. That's about it, I suppose."

"And you remembered me from just that?"

"...You left an impression, I suppose," Quwrof said wryly. _A dagger-shaped impression..._

Oddly, Quwrof hadn't been angry with the Chain Guy after he'd been left behind with the Judgement Chain binding his nen. He wasn't about to sit around and do nothing about it, and had, in fact, been following a lead on a nen curse-remover when the Judgement Chain had disappeared on its own. Still, Quwrof had actually been secretly impressed with the Chain Guy for doing something that no one had ever succeeded in doing: capturing the leader of the Genei Ryodan. And the Chain Guy had ended up being a mere boy! After Wbererguin's failure to return, he had built up an image of a fearsome nen-user, so Quwrof had been shocked to find himself captive to a thin, teenaged boy who had easily passed as a girl.

"So I was in Yorkshin a few months ago... I wonder how I ended up here, almost on the other side of the continent."

"Can't answer that," Quwrof replied. "You have a place of your own here now?"

Curarpikt smiled. "Fortunately, the owner of the bookstore also owns some rental property, so I'm living in one of his apartments. He was impressed with me and desperate to fill the position, so I get the place for practically free. Today was my second day there." He sighed. "All things considered, I've been quite fortunate."

_Well, you do come across as being tremendously competent._ Quwrof shook his head slightly. "I see you retained your knowledge, if not your memory."

The boy nodded. "You mentioned I was bidding on a book. It's good to know there is one constant in my life." He paused as the waitress approached. They placed their orders, then sat staring at each other for a few moments.

"You... are working on getting your memory back, I assume?" Quwrof eventually asked.

Curarpikt shook his head and looked away.

"Can I ask why not?"

The boy's eyes flickered towards the man briefly. "You just did."

Surprisingly, the boy had a sense of humor… "Okay. And?" Quwrof waited for the blonde to answer. Curarpikt remained silent, once again looking out the window. "You don't know where to begin? Do you need help?"

He shook his head again. Then he sighed, facing Quwrof. "It would be nice to remember who I am, and to remember people from my past. But, I lost my past for a reason, and I think it might be best to leave well enough alone. If it's in my best interest to remember, I probably will eventually."

"But," Quwrof began, not understanding the boy. "But your past determines who you are. You've lost your identity, Curarpikt." Memories make up so much of a person. Memories are... Briefly, Quwrof saw Phalcnothdk's face, eyes calm, and lips curved in a confident smile beneath her prominent nose, as she prepared to fire a Memory Bomb at him.

"I have my name."

"That's nothing. You can change your name as easily as you change clothing." He paused, thinking back to the night his life was exchanged for the lives of the two boys. "What about your friends?"

Curarpikt's face clouded momentarily. The expression passed, and he was smiling once more. "I'll just need to become reacquainted with them. You found me, after all. If we became friends once before, there's no reason why we can't do it again."

"But, Curarpikt," Quwrof said, starting to feel frustrated. _How can I get his memory back if he doesn't want it?_

The boy sighed. "Look, if you really must know, I was advised against trying to retrieve my memories."

"Who the hell gave you such shitty advice?" Quwrof asked, too flabbergasted to keep from swearing.

"I did."

**Author's Notes**: I USE THE _HUNTER'S GUIDE _ SPELLINGS FOR THE CHARACTERS' NAMES (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, NOT the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. (Yes, I know this same note is found at the beginning of this chapter, but I've received reviews pointing out the "bad" or "weird" spellings, showing me that not everyone is reading the Author's Note at the beginning, so here it is again.).


	2. Chapter 2

**Warnings: **This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I USE THE _HUNTER'S GUIDE _ SPELLINGS FOR THE CHARACTERS' NAMES (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, NOT the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island arc and beyond. Basically, an AU fic. I'd also like to point out that Lynlyn inspired me to begin writing this. Thanks, Lynlyn!

This chapter has been edited and re-posted 2/7/07 as a result of an error... (see my LJ for details).

Standard disclaimers apply...

**Hunt for the Intangible - Chapter 2**

Quwrof followed the slender figure into the small apartment. On their immediate right was a galley-sized kitchen, separated from the main room by a counter. On the left was a small table with two chairs, and in the main part of the room were a sofa and a low table. Along the wall with the sofa was an open door. Quwrof could see a smaller room with only a bed, a closet, and a door, most likely leading to the bathroom. Modest accommodations overall.

Curarpikt walked into the bedroom and returned with a well-worn book. He opened it and removed a sheet of paper. After hesitating for a moment, he handed it to Quwrof. It was a handwritten letter.

_Curarpikt, you must be in a state of confusion as you read this. I apologize for the current state of your memory. It is the result of a choice I made, a choice I feel will be for the best. There are ways to regain the memories you have lost, but believe me when I say that you will be happier without them. There should be no good reason to go seeking past nightmares Live in peace._

Quwrof looked up in disbelief. "You wrote this?"

"Apparently. It's definitely my handwriting." The blonde sat on the sofa, removed his shoes, and drew his knees up to his chest. "I'd like to believe that I had my own best interest in mind when I tampered with my memory. So do you see why I'm hesitant to actively pursue regaining it?"

The older man stared at the boy. "I can also see that you are unhappy not knowing who you are. So let me help you retrieve your memories."

The boy furrowed his brows. "I don't know... My life is peaceful right now, albeit somewhat boring, and if I..."

"You're afraid of your past."

Curarpikt dropped his head in shame. "Honestly, yes. Which makes me crazy, since I don't know if I even have reason to be afraid. But I apparently felt that there was need to forget..."

Quwrof watched the boy silently, trying to formulate a plan. He had no idea how to get Curarpikt's memories back, but he couldn't just leave the boy here and give up without doing something. He had the option of simply killing the boy, but he couldn't bring himself to kill someone in revenge when that someone had no idea what the revenge was about. He could also just leave and forget about avenging Wbererguin and Phalcnothdk, but the rest of the Ryodan wouldn't be happy with that...

"Look, why don't I stick around town for awhile. You don't remember me, but maybe it'll help to be near someone from your past."

The boy looked up in amazement. "You would do that for me?"

He smiled wryly. "Well, I'd like to think that we're friends."

A grateful smile lit up Curarpikt's face. Quwrof raised an eyebrow, recalling that his first impression had been that the Chain Guy was a girl. He was definitely an attractive youth. "You're welcome to stay here, then," Curarpikt said, "if you don't mind staying in a somewhat sparsely furnished apartment... I know the hotel accommodations in this town can be a bit hefty."

Quwrof considered the offer. It would probably be best if he stayed in close proximity of the boy. "That'd be great. The sofa is long enough for me to sleep on, so no problem."

"It folds out into a bed, I think. I'll just need to get some extra sheets and blankets." Curarpikt took a quick look at his watch and stood. "Why don't you make yourself at home, while I run down the street and get some linens before the store closes?"

"Alright."

Once Curarpikt left, Quwrof explored the apartment. Other than the furniture, the main room held nothing. He stepped into the bedroom and checked the closet. A few items of clothing were hanging on the rod or resting on the narrow built-in shelves. Oddly enough, he couldn't locate the Kuruta tribal outfit. On the floor of the closet was a leather bag. It was empty. In the room itself was the bed, a lamp, and a short stack of books on the floor by one wall. The books held no clues. They were an assortment of non-fiction, mainly history. He opened the door, which led to the bathroom as he had suspected. It was similarly bare, holding nothing more than a stack of towels and a few toiletry items. Back in the kitchen, he opened the few cabinets and found only a few plates, bowls, glasses... typical kitchen items.

"Well, kid, there is absolutely nothing here to tell me what happened to you," he muttered. His phone rang as he sat on the sofa. He pulled it out of his pocket, opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the narrow balcony.

"Matiy."

"Dancho, it's good to hear your voice," responded the young woman. "Is everything okay?"

"There is no need to be checking up on me."

"I know, but... you were meeting with the Chain Guy. We wanted to know how it went. What's the deal with his memory? Does he still have the chains?"

"He seems to have forgotten everything concerning who he is and what he's done in the past. And, no chains." He paused, considering. Matiy waited silently for the leader to continue. "It makes sense, actually. The majority of the population never learn of the existence of nen. I'm assuming that he wouldn't remember his own nen ability because he doesn't remember his nen training. And why should he, since he doesn't remember his reason for needing to acquire nen chains in the first place."

Matiy was silent for a moment, most likely processing the information. "Okay, so what's the plan, then?"

Quwrof smirked, briefly wishing that it were Nobunaga on the phone so he could hear the short-tempered man's reaction. "Well, I'll be staying with the Chain Guy for awhile."

Silence. He could imagine the look on Matiy's face. "Dancho!"

"I'll be perfectly fine. It's going to take some research and effort to find out what caused the Chain Guy's memory loss."

"Where are you now, Dancho?"

Quwrof sighed. "If I tell you, are you going to come and storm the place?"

A pause. "I wouldn't, but..."

The leader grinned. "I'll be in touch."

-----

Quwrof initially had doubts about living with the Chain Guy, but he soon learned that it wasn't as strange as he'd anticipated it would be. For one thing, the boy spent most of the day at the bookstore, so they really only saw each other in the mornings and evenings. And, Quwrof discovered that they actually had some things in common, besides their ability to lead and formulate devious plans...

First, the boy's interests spanned a wide range of topics. But he seemed to have an in-depth knowledge of and interest in anthropology and antiquities. While Quwrof wasn't particularly interested in world cultures, he did appreciate rare artifacts, so they were easily able to find topics of conversation. That was, if the boy were feeling talkative...

The second thing Quwrof learned was that Curarapikt didn't initiate a lot of conversations. Hours could pass in the evening where he would simply sit on the sofa and read quietly. He participated in conversations willingly enough, but the boy generally seemed to prefer the company of a book.

Or, nature. The boy made it a habit of making the twenty-minute walk to the beach on most evenings. Quwrof accompanied him once, just to see what he did. Curarpikt chatted amiably with him during the walk, but once they'd reached the beach, he simply sat on the sand and stared out across the water. He remained that way, silent, with eyes on the water, until the stars had come out. And on the weekend, Quwrof discovered Curarpikt mapping a bus route to the large park on the opposite end of town, so he offered to drive the boy. Once there, Curarpikt acted like he did on his evening walk, talking with the older man as they hiked along a winding trail, then clamming up completely once they reached a river rushing between a grove of trees. For a long time, he simply sat on a boulder by the water, musing silently.

Considering the wild region that the Kuruta tribe had called home, all of this made sense. Quwrof had gotten the impression that the Kuruta were nature worshippers. The boy didn't remember his past, but he did seem to retain his longing for the wild.

One surprising, or initially amusing, thing Quwrof learned about the boy was that he wasn't much of a cook. Or, more accurately, he was still learning his way around the kitchen. Which, upon further thought, did make sense as well. He wouldn't have needed to cook while with the Nostrads, and considering the fact that the Genei Ryodan had left him an orphan, the boy probably hadn't spent a lot of time in domestic situations. Since Quwrof didn't cook either, but appreciated fine dining, he frequently ordered food or insisted on taking the boy out to eat. That had initially caused an argument, but Quwrof persisted, explaining to the boy that he was quite well-off as he owned a business dealing in acquisition of art and rare objects. Syarnorke, who'd eventually returned from Greed Island with the others, couldn't stop laughing when Quwrof later told him of the guise he had concocted. This, too, then led to the Chain Guy feeling guilty about Quwrof's modest sleeping arrangements, but the older man had insisted that he didn't mind and enjoyed staying with the boy.

Quwrof also discovered that the Chain Guy didn't place much importance on possessions or on his own appearance. Despite the fact that the boy had an interest in the arts, he had none in his own apartment, and showed no indication of wanting to acquire any. The walls were woefully bare, and Quwrof had the impression that had the apartment not been furnished in the beginning, the boy would probably still be sleeping on the floor. And despite his looks, he paid little to no attention to the way he dressed, opting for, in Quwrof's opinion, pathetically boring clothing in plain colors. Which really was a shame, since Quwrof was of the mind that the boy would dress up really nicely in a leather coat and tight pants...

Overall, though, the Chain Guy wasn't quite what Quwrof was expecting him to be. He wasn't certain just what he had been expecting, but he knew that the boy he'd spent nearly a week with wasn't it...

-----

Quwrof stared at the map. A two days' walk. Curarpikt had eventually told him that the building he'd found himself in had been nowhere near a town. But he had followed the road along the coast for two days before reaching Sonisco. Quwrof shook his head. Had the boy headed in the other direction, he would have reached another town much sooner. Quwrof decided to act on his hunch and visit that town.

"Do you know anything about Paan?" he asked Curarpikt as the boy came out of the bedroom.

"I think I heard someone mention that it's a tourist town near here. Very wealthy. Many galleries and antique stores," Curarpikt said, stepping into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of juice.

_Perfect._

The boy leaned across the counter. "Are you planning on going there?"

"Yes, I am. I'm meeting with a dealer there. Hopefully, I'll find something that's right for my store." He glanced at his watch. "In fact, I should get going. It'll take a couple of hours to drive there."

"Will you be back for dinner?"

"Huh? Oh, sure. I'll see you this evening," Quwrof said.

-----

As with his first day in Sonisco City, Quwrof spent his initial hours in Paan walking almost aimlessly, sensing for any unusual aura. Paan was, as Curarpikt had described, a wealthy seaside town, the streets abundant with ritzy-looking businesses. Most of them seemed to cater to the snobby rich who were looking for unusual works of art. Quwrof could easily imagine that Curarpikt might have accompanied the Nostrads here. But Senritsu had said that Curarpikt simply packed up and left the mansion one day. Had they been here before that day? And had someone approached him then?

His wanderings appeared to have paid off when a short man approached him. He was middle-aged and wearing a silk coat, a cashmere scarf, and an unmistakable layer of aura...

"Hello, young man," the man said pleasantly. "If you don't mind my saying, you seem to be carrying quite a bit of weight on your shoulders."

_This is promising._ "What do you mean?" Quwrof inquired innocently.

"Are you familiar with nen?"

"...I've heard mention of it," Quwrof responded.

The man smiled. "Well, I have the ability to see that you have seen some evil things in your life. And I can help you, if you'd like."

_Bingo!_ "What do you mean?" the Ryodan leader asked once more.

"Would you like to be rid of bad memories?" the man stepped closer to Quwrof. "To sleep in peace at night?" His voice lowered to a whisper. "I can help you, for a small price."

Quwrof pretended to consider the offer. "...Well, it might be nice... But..."

"Well, you think about it, young man. If you're interested, meet me at the old Ocean's Pride. It's an abandoned restaurant about half an hour northwest of here, right on the main highway. I'll be there after sundown."

"I'll think about it," Quwrof promised. He watched the short man saunter away. Quwrof slowly smiled.

-----

The short man had set up some candles in the main dining hall of the rundown building.

"Hello, young man," he said. "I'm glad to see you've decided to receive my help."

Quwrof crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "I haven't made a decision yet. I want some explanations first."

The man smiled. He probably intended it to be reassuring, but it came across as predatory. "I have the ability to remove bad memories. For a small fee, I can do that for you."

"Just the bad ones?"

"Of course, I wouldn't want to leave you without a past."

"Oh, really." In less than a second, Quwrof had the man by the throat, legs hanging in mid-air. "Let's start from the beginning with the truth."

The man wheezed. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, about two weeks ago, you met with a kid. Blonde, teenager, about 5'7", probably had chains around his right wrist."

The man's eyes widened. "Oh... that one..." He gasped. "Put me down, please!" he choked, terrified.

Quwrof set the man down but kept his hand around his throat. "You're obviously not a fighter, but you see, I am. Well, a killer, actually," he smiled, but there was no humor in his eyes. "So, the truth, if you please."

"Does he want his memories back?" the man asked fearfully. Quwrof remained silent. "If he does, you can't kill me." Quwrof's right eyebrow raised. "If I die, the memories I've removed all disappear."

"I don't have to kill you to make you suffer horribly," Quwrof said smoothly. He grabbed the man's left wrist and applied a little pressure. It snapped easily.

The man's scream echoed through the room and down the empty corridor.

"Now, you're other wrist."

"No, wait," the man gasped, his eyes wild. "Please, don't hurt me! I... I have something that belongs to the kid. How about if I give it to you?"

"Yes, his memories, if you please."

"I can't do that. But I have something..."

Quwrof remembered something that had puzzled him. "You have his tribal clothes."

Despite the pain, the man managed to look surprised. "Yeah, I _did_, but I got rid of those... How'd you... No, look, I have his Hunter license."

_The Chain Guy is a Hunter?_ He shouldn't be that surprised. "You didn't sell it?"

"Are you kidding? You know how useful these things are?"

Quwrof grabbed the man's other wrist.

"It's in my coat pocket! Please, just take it! But don't hurt me!"

The Ryodan leader reached into the pocket and removed the license card. He gave it a quick glance before tucking it into his own shirt pocket. "Now, talk to me."

The man swallowed and licked his lips. His eyes darted towards the door. "... uh... okay... My ability lets me pick out people who are carrying a lot of bad memories. That kid stood out in the crowd, so I targeted him. I mean, he glowed like a neon sign, just full of negative memories! When I first saw him, he was with a group that was obviously mafia, and he looked like he was a favorite of the boss, so I knew he'd have money." The man paused, but hastily continued as Quwrof tightened his grip. "So I made him the same offer I made to you."

"But you removed _all_ of his memories."

"That's what my ability does. I can't selectively remove memories."

Quwrof frowned at the man. "An odd ability. You're a specialized nen-user, I assume. Why did you choose an ability with little gain?"

The man grinned nervously. "Oh, but it's most profitable, see. After my client transfers money via phone, I remove his memories, and while he's unconscious, I take his phone and empty the rest of his account into mine. See, my ability also allows me to specifically extract memories relating to bank accounts, vault and safe combinations... you know, things relating to assets. I have all of his memories, so by the time the client awakens, I'm long gone with all of his money, and he has no idea what happened."

"Nor who he is."

The man shrugged nonchalantly, or tried, but his eyes still betrayed his fear of Quwrof. "Well, at least I don't kill my clients."

Quwrof tilted his head slightly. "So you steal memories and assets. And judging by the fact that you haven't tried to take mine, you need a consenting victim." The man's eyes widened slightly, confirming Quwrof's suspicion. "What happens to the memories?"

"See these?" the man asked, holding up his right arm. There were several bracelets around the wrist, each one made up of marbled beads. "Each bead is someone's memories. I must never remove them, or I lose my nen ability. And the memories are lost forever as well, so don't try to take them from me," the man added smugly.

"That's it? That seems like an easy restriction for your ability, considering how fine-tuned it is for your own personal gain."

"Oh, well, that..." the man looked more subdued. "I also lost all of my _own_ memories from before I gained this ability." Then he smiled. "But, I don't really care. I probably had a miserable life if I chose that as my condition. And now, I'm loaded!"

Quwrof frowned. He wasn't willing to lose his memories. "You're in luck, then. I won't be stealing your ability."

"What? ...Ack!" He choked as Quwrof squeezed his neck again.

"Now, how does one regain one's lost memories?"

"Two ways..." the man gasped. Quwrof eased his grip slightly. "A friend from your past betrays you and breaks your heart. Or, you end up falling for or willingly risking your life for an enemy from your past."

Quwrof frowned. _This could be a problem..._ Then he considered the irony. "Those are cruel conditions," he commented. If he weren't in the situation of needing to fulfill one of them, he'd almost be impressed at the wickedness of the conditions.

"And, one more thing... If you meet one of the conditions, you get all of your memories back. And I mean _all_. You end up remembering things you've made yourself forget, and memories that are so old that you forgot that you had them. Frankly, it could be information overload."

The dark-haired man dismissed that bit of information. All that mattered was that Curarpikt remember the Kuruta and the Ryodan. He didn't care about any other skeletons the boy kept in his closet.

"You're a coward," Quwrof suddenly said as the truth hit him. "That's why you took his tribal clothes. You take away anything that might give a lead on identity, because if your victims are able to regain their memories, I bet they would want to come after you." The man looked away guiltily. Quwrof barked out a short laugh and released the short man. "Fine, so I can't kill you." He turned away and started to leave the room. But he paused at the door.

"But once he gets his memories back, I might just hunt you down and kill you." He smiled pleasantly. "Thank you for your time."


	3. Chapter 3

**Warnings**: Also, this fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond. Basically, an AU fic. I'd also like to point out that Lynlyn inspired me to begin writing this. Thanks, Lynlyn!

This chapter has been edited and re-posted 2/7/07 due to an error... (see my LJ for details).

Standard disclaimers apply...

**Hunt for the Intangible - Chapter 3**

Quwrof was still a few miles from Sonisco City when he sensed a large amount of strong nen ahead. He slowed down and pulled onto the shoulder, right behind a group of people walking by the road. The car's headlights created sharp shadows beyond the figures. Quwrof stepped out of the car and leaned against it, smiling crookedly.

"Dancho!" Matiy was the first to approach.

"Well, well," Quwrof said, surveying the group. Matiy, Chzzck, Syarnorke, Nobunaga, Phynkss, Colhtophy, Fulunkln, Vonnornoth, Heytun. They were all there. "And what have we here?"

"Boy, are we glad to see you!" Syarnorke said excitedly. "You look well, Dancho."

"And where might you all be heading at this time of night?" The Ryodan members looked at each other guiltily. Quwrof sighed exasperatedly. "I should have never told you where I was. I thought I'd told you that I can handle this on my own."

"But, Dancho, if you're able to get the Chain Guy's memory back, I want to be the one to kill him," insisted Nobunaga. "You gave me permission back in Yorkshin."

Syarnorke rolled his eyes. "We thought you could use our help," he explained. "Besides, we just wanted to see you."

Quwrof smiled at the group, then waved an arm down the road, in the direction he had come from. "Well, I've discovered that this might be a little harder than I'd anticipated."

"You learned something in Paan?"

"It was a specialized nen-user. He takes memories so that he can steal his victims' assets and not be pursued afterwards," said Quwrof, his tone betraying his opinion of the man's cowardly method of stealing. It still irked him slightly that he'd had to leave the man alive.

"How did this nen-user manage to take the Chain Guy's memories? I would imagine someone who killed Ubo would be more powerful than some guy who just steals memories and has to hide his tracks," Phynkss said, sharing Quwrof's low opinion of the man.

"He tells his victims that he'll take away bad memories."

A few of the members looked at each other with furrowed brows. "He was tricked," Syarnorke stated. "He wanted out."

Fulunkln glanced at Syarnorke, frowning. "I almost feel sorry for the kid," his deep voice rumbled. Syarnorke nodded.

"So, did you learn how to get the kid's memories back?" asked Heytun. That was, after all, the most important thing.

Quwrof sighed. "There are two methods. And I might as well give up on one of them."

"Which is?" encouraged Syarnorke.

"He needs to be betrayed by a former friend. We've all met his friends. That's never going to happen."

The members nodded reluctantly.

"You said there are two methods," Fulunkln reminded him.

"Right. The other is for Curarpikt to fall for an enemy, or to risk his life for an enemy."

Syarnorke whistled. "Well, you're right, Dancho. This is going to be harder than anticipated." Then he laughed. "Those are cruel conditions! He ends up hurt even if he regains his memories."

"Let me get this straight," Nobunaga said. "The Chain Guy has to fall in love with one of us? That's never happening!"

"Well, definitely not with you," Matiy snorted. "But there's a chance with other members. I mean, the life-saving part," she added quickly.

"Hold on," Quwrof said quietly. "You can't all come to Sonisco. It's a large city, but how unnatural would it be for all of you to come out of the woodwork and befriend Curarpikt at once?"

"Besides, some of us could never pull it off," Matiy added, giving Nobunaga, Phynkss, and Heytun meaningful looks.

Phynkss growled. "What? You don't think I could act buddy-buddy?" Heytun shrugged indifferently.

"You saw Phalc's memories. He's not that type of person."

"Dancho, did you steal the guy's ability?" Syarnorke asked hurriedly before Matiy and Phynkss started a fight.

"Can't," Quwrof responded. "One of his conditions was that he lost all his memory from before he acquired the ability. Personally, I'd rather keep my memory intact." A few members nodded in understanding.

"So did you kill him, then?" asked Nobunaga.

"Can't do that, either. The stolen memories would be lost." Quwrof shrugged. "It's fine. I'll kill him after Curarpikt's memory is restored. For now, though, I need you all to be a little more _discreet_. At least split up. All nine of you walking together as a group is more than a little noticeable." His eyes roamed over the group, lingering on Fulunkln the longest. The huge man shrugged innocently.

"Roger, Dancho," Syarnorke grinned.

Quwrof opened the car door. "I'll be in touch. Just stay away from Curarpikt for now." He climbed into the car and closed the door.

The Ryodan members watched as the car disappeared down the road.

"Did you notice Dancho kept referring to the Chain Guy by name? A little weird," commented Chzzck.

"Well, anyway, let's decide on our groupings and split up. We'll get together again tomorrow night somewhere in Sonisco," Syarnorke said.

-----

Even after a few days, it still felt a little strange to be using his own key to unlock the door to Curarpikt's apartment. Quwrof opened the door quietly, assuming the boy would probably be asleep by now. He was surprised to find Curarpikt sitting on the sofa in his pajamas, knees huddled to his chest and bare toes curled against the edge of the sofa cushion.

"Quwrof!" the blonde said, standing in one motion.

"You didn't have to wait up," said the older man. He gave the boy what he hoped was an apologetic look. "I'm sorry I missed dinner, but things took a little longer than expected. And I realized I didn't have your number."

"I don't have a phone. Haven't really needed one so far." He inclined his head slightly. "I suppose I should get around to acquiring one."

The nen-user had mentioned taking phones and forms of ID.

"Well, I'm sorry. You did eat, right?"

The boy nodded. He gave Quwrof a look that the man couldn't interpret before turning towards the bedroom door.

"Are you angry with me?" Quwrof asked, more curious than concerned.

The boy shook his head and stopped in the doorway, his right hand on the doorknob. "I... was just worried," he said softly, then stepped into the bedroom.

Quwrof followed Curarpikt into the bedroom and found him climbing into bed. "Worried?" he asked. "About what?"

"It's nothing," the boy murmured.

"Curarpikt," Quwrof sighed, "how can I help you if you don't tell me things?" And he was quite curious about what could have worried the boy.

The blonde stared at him for a long moment. "I was worried that... maybe something had happened to you. Or that you decided to... not come back," he said softly. He looked down. "It's silly, I know, but right now, you're the only connection I have to my past. I was afraid that..." He lifted his head and stared at Quwrof again, brows drawn together. "I was afraid of losing more than I already have."

To his own surprise, Quwrof felt his expression soften. "I'm sorry, Curarpikt. I don't want to cause you unnecessary stress or fear." He sat on the bed. "Listen, I wasn't actually meeting with an antiques dealer today. I was following a hunch about your condition."

The boy stiffened. "What?"

"I found out how you might have lost your memory," Quwrof explained.

"How did you...?"

Quwrof gave the boy a wry grin. "I'd rather not say. But I will tell you that you had probably never planned on losing all of your memories."

"What? How can you know this?" He almost sounded angry.

"There's a con-artist who goes around offering to take away bad memories. But he actually takes away _all_ of a person's memory so he can rob the person of all of their assets."

Curarpikt's jaw dropped. He quickly collected himself and asked slowly, "So I was tricked?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"How? Is it some form of hypnosis?" The blonde looked doubtful. "I wouldn't imagine that I could be so susceptible."

Quwrof shrugged, leaving it to the boy to interpret the gesture for either the question or the comment.

The blonde's eyes narrowed slightly. For a brief moment, he looked like the Chain Guy that Quwrof remembered him as. He could sense the aura whipping around the boy angrily, and he almost expected the boy's eyes to turn red. "I assume my memories can be recovered?"

Quwrof stared at the blond for several seconds. "Sorry, but I don't know," he finally said. "I didn't actually find the man responsible. I only learned _of_ him. And, no. No one knows exactly who he is, or where he is." He watched Curarpikt's shoulders sag. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," he said quietly. "At least I now know that I never planned to put myself in this situation. I was really beginning to get annoyed with my past self, you know?" he said, grinning slightly.

"Who knows? Maybe you'll suddenly wake up one morning with all of your memories. It might not be permanent, right?"

"...Right. And you don't know for certain that the man you heard about was actually the one responsible for this..." He stared at his hands for a moment. Abruptly, he looked up and met Quwrof's gaze. "Thank you for finding out about this. And for being here."

Quwrof blinked. "... You're welcome." He stood. "Go to sleep now."

The boy nodded. "Good night."

"Good night."

-----

_It was dawn when the boy awoke. He was lying on a hard floor, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. He sat up slowly and surveyed his surroundings. An abandoned restaurant? A few broken chairs and tables were propped against one wall, and shards of china littered one end of the room. Several pipes and wires stuck out of one wall at odd angles, the only remnants of appliances. He stood hesitantly and walked to one of the large windows. The sun was just peeking out from the ocean, creating long shadows around him. He stared out across the water, squinting against the light._

_What am I doing here?_

_Where is here?_

_He saw a tiny dark dot making its way across the water, just above the horizon. An airship. It was moving westward. He leaned out of a window- the glass had long been shattered – and looked westward down the coast. The land curved gradually so that he could see miles of coast stretching away. It was still dark enough that he could catch glimpses of glittering lights, possibly eighty miles, maybe more, from the building. A city?_

_He drew back into the building and walked to where he had been lying. There was a shoulder bag. He emptied the contents: a pair of binoculars, a bottle of water, a blanket, and two paperback books. No ID, no wallet, no phone._

_The boy sat for several moments, staring at the contents of the bag._

_Who am I?_

_He was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and pants, both white. The pockets were empty. He had no coat._

_Who am I?_

_Eventually, he stood. The sun was up, but he was cold, possibly having spent the whole night on the floor. He walked out of the building and looked around. There were no other buildings. A road wound along the coast eastward and westward. Trees dotted the coast, most of them bare. The air felt crisp. Early winter._

_He pulled out the binoculars and searched for the airship. It was definitely heading for the rapidly disappearing lights, confirming the existence of a city. With a resigned sigh, the boy began walking westward, towards the city._

_He tried to keep his mind blank as he walked, counting his steps or reciting poems that flittered across his thoughts._

_Odd, I remember poems, but not my name..._

_When night fell, he decided to keep walking. It was too cold to sleep on the road. He opened the bag and pulled out the blanket to wrap around himself as he walked. As he unfolded it, a third book fell out and landed on his foot. He picked it up, blinking as a folded sheet of paper slid from between the pages and fluttered to the ground. He picked up the paper as well and unfolded it._

_His eyes widened as he skimmed the note._

_Curarpikt..._

"Curarpikt?"

The boy blinked several times before acknowledging the voice. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

Quwrof inclined his head and crossed his arms. "I said, you're going to stir your cereal into mush. Where's your mind gone off to?"

"Good question," Curarpikt mumbled.

The man made a face. "... Sorry." Then he gave the boy an encouraging smile. "But, we have a lead, right? It could be worse, you know."

"It could..." the boy agreed slowly. But what if regaining his memory made things worse? He couldn't just ignore the note that he had left himself. Even if he'd had no intention of forgetting _everything_, there were obviously things that Curarpikt-of-the-past felt needed to be forgotten.

And things weren't entirely bad now... In fact, he had been quite fortunate...

_It was mid-morning the next day when he reached the outskirts of the coastal city. As he walked deeper into the city, he was surrounded by the bustle of metropolitan life. He saw several signs that told him that he was in Sonisco City._

_And where is that?_

_He stepped into a corner bookstore. It was empty, except for the employees. He found the maps and guide books and skimmed several. Sonisco City was located on the northern part of the continent. Beyond the few small towns outside of the city, there was nothing but mountain ranges for over a hundred miles. He had already checked a discarded newspaper, so he knew that it was the end of November. Not the ideal time to be traversing northern mountains since he lacked the funds for a ticket on an airship._

_But then, where would he go?_

_For that matter, how could he live here in Sonisco?_

"_You're having a rough day, too, huh?"_

_He looked up, unaware that a sigh had escaped him. The large man behind the counter had approached him while he was in thought. _

_He hesitated before saying, "Yes, it seems that I need to find a job. Rather quickly."_

_The man raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He looked the boy over. "Do you know books?"_

_The boy glanced at the shelves around him. Many of the authors and titles looked familiar. "I believe so..."_

"_Hmph. Okay, step into my office. I'm desperate, had to fire that damned... had to fire someone yesterday. Couldn't hurt to chat with you."_

_He led the boy into the small office behind the registers. Within fifteen minutes, he was practically dancing in his seat, thoroughly impressed with the boy's knowledge And the boy had great suggestions in response to the man's questions and lamentations about the current state of the business.. _

"_Okay, you're a little younger than I'd like, but I can offer you the manager's position. I was afraid I'd have to bribe the weekend or evening managers to rearrange their lives and schedules, or that I'd have to settle for one of the other employees. Honestly, none of them are as qualified as you,, not even the other managers."_

_Within an hour of walking into Sonisco, the boy was able to find employment with nothing more than his name and unexplainable knowledge . In addition, the owner supplied him with an inexpensive place to live, once he learned that the boy had just arrived in town. The friendly man was a trusting and empathetic sort, believing and feeling sorry for the boy when the blonde explained his predicament and current state of memory. Things were definitely improving._

_Once in his new home, the boy pulled out the folded sheet of paper again. He stared at it for a long time before tucking it away._

_Fine, I won't go seeking my past. But this had better be the right choice..._

But now, he knew, or assumed, that his past self hadn't expected to lose all of his memories. So what was he to do? There was nothing stopping him from trying to remember the past; the note had only told him to not seek past nightmares... But assuming that the information Quwrof had gotten was correct, then someone had tricked him into giving up _all_ of his memories, and that implied that Curarpikt would probably have to regain _all _of his memory, not just selective parts of it.

He stared into his bowl of cereal, now holding a gooey mush. _What am I supposed to do?_ Would he always have to second-guess himself? A self he didn't even remember...?

-----

The Hunter license wasn't as helpful as Quwrof hoped it would be. But then, he wasn't certain what kind of information he was looking for. He learned that Curarpikt was from the newest batch of Hunters, and that his plans were to be a Blacklist Hunter, but Quwrof had already made those assumptions himself. He did, however, learn the names of the other licensees, meaning that he now knew the names of the loud guy in the suit and of the dark-haired boy: Leorio and Gon. Not that the information did him any good. There was no point in locating those two, since it would be a cold day in hell before either of them intentionally did anything to hurt Curarpikt. And he also finally learned of Hyskoa's connection to the Chain Guy.

Quwrof stepped away from the computer and left the building. He stopped in front of the door, crossed his arms, and rolled his eyes. Several Ryodan members, specifically Syarnorke, Matiy, and Phynkss, were standing across the street, watching him and not making much of an effort to look inconspicuous. With a sigh, he made a slight gesture with his head and walked down the sidewalk. Fifteen minutes later, he reached the beach and made his way over to the sheer rock wall jutting out of the water. Moments later, the members joined him.

"Are you going to be following me around everywhere?" Quwrof asked.

"Sorry, Dancho," Syarnorke said, "but we wanted to touch base with you." He waited while Quwrof settled himself comfortably on a boulder. "Fulunkln, Colhtophy, and Vonnornoth decided to go back to Ryusei City. There's no point in all of us being here, and none of them is interested in personally killing the Chain Guy."

"And the rest of you all want a piece of him?" Quwrof asked with a lift of his brows.

"Not, me," Matiy said, "and Chzzck doesn't care, either, but we're sticking around to help."

"What are the others doing right now?" Quwrof asked a little warily.

Syarnorke responded, "Nobunaga and Heytun are scouting the city. And Chzzck wanted to stop by a bookstore."

"What?!" Quwrof exclaimed. "Which one?"

"What's wrong, Dancho?" Syarnorke glanced at the other members, wondering what he'd said to upset their leader. "You know she's a bookworm. She spotted one across the street as we were following you from the apartment, so she said she'd catch up with us later."

The leader closed his eyes and groaned. _No, wait, maybe it'll be okay. But this is Chzzck we're talking about... _ "Curarpikt works there!" The members' eyes widened as Quwrof glanced at his watch. "Maybe he's on his lunch break now... Can't count on it, though... He tends to forget to take a break..."

"Dancho, calm down, please" Syarnorke said, surprised to see their leader beginning to lose his composure. "Chzzck didn't see Phalc's memories. She doesn't know what the Chain Guy looks like. So unless he's sporting his chains in the store, which we know he can't do, we should be okay."

Quwrof relaxed visibly. "You're certain she doesn't know what he looks like?"

The members nodded.

"Alright, maybe this will be to our advantage. We could possibly have her become a store regular and befriend Curarpikt, unless she's already done something typically Chzzck," Quwrof murmured. Phynkss stifled a laugh. "Syar, any thoughts on what I told you last night?"

The young man grinned wickedly. "Well, yes, but you might not like it." Quwrof crossed his arms and nodded for Syarnorke to continue. "Okay, this is completely cliche, trite, right out the movies, whatever, but how about if you were to nurse the kid back to health? Feelings of gratitude, caring, he falls for you, regains his memory, you kill him."

Quwrof stared at Syarnorke, mouth open. Amazingly, one of the first thoughts to organize itself was, _If it were right out of a trite movie, I wouldn't be killing him after he falls for me. We'd ride off into the sunset on a white horse or motorcycle, or something equally lame..._ He shook the inane thought out of his head.

Syarnorke chuckled. "Come on, Dancho, it's not that bad. At the least, he comes to appreciate you, and then maybe he'll end up willing to risk his life for you later? We could easily stage an attack on you. Then he regains his memory, and you kill him."

Quwrof closed his mouth. Reluctantly, he said, "Okay, it's not nearly as ridiculous as it sounds, I suppose... at least not the second part of your idea..."

"You don't like the first part? He's a pretty kid, Dancho. How bad could it be?"

"You're assuming that he'd fall for a man."

"Well, look at him," snorted Phynkss. He still found it difficult to accept that the girly-boy from Phalcnothd's memories had successfully captured and eventually killed Wbererguin. Actually, he found it hardest to accept that the Chain Guy _was_ a guy...

Syarnorke ignored Phynkss's comment and continued. "So, we have a contingency plan as well," he smiled. "Matiy or Chzzck."

"_We_ have a plan? Dancho, I'd like to state for the record that I'm not happy with _Syarnorke's_ plan at all," Matiy said flatly.

Quwrof looked at the young woman with new interest. "... Curarpikt mentioned that the store is hiring for their cafe... You would see him every day... get to know him..."

"It's a bookstore, right? Send Chzzck," the young woman insisted.

The men laughed. "Seriously, Matiy," Quwrof said, grinning.

"Dancho."

"Go apply for the position."

"Dancho, he's a teenaged boy!"

"And lose the coldness. You'll need to be warm and friendly."

"Dancho! We have nothing in common!"

"Matiy."

The young woman sighed, shoulders sagging in resignation. "Yes, Dancho."

-----

Chzzck leisurely roamed the store before ending up in the fiction aisles, looking for nothing in particular. She had no money on her, either, but that was never a problem for a Spider... One title caught her eye, and she pulled the book off of the shelf and flipped it open. After a moment, she snapped it shut and started to tuck it under her shirt, but stopped as she felt eyes on her. She looked to her right and saw a young man watching her. He was wearing a store apron.

The young man walked to her and smiled pleasantly. "You have good taste in literature," he said. "Would you like me to ring that up for you?" He held out a hand.

Chzzck's eyes widened slightly. She had expected him to confront her about her attempted theft. Had he not seen it? That made more sense, since the average person couldn't have seen her movements. She observed the blond young man more closely. His manner seemed relaxed, but she could sense that he was observant and missed nothing. "Oh, um, I'm still looking, thanks." She placed the book back on the shelf.

"Well, we have only that one copy of that book right now, so why don't I hold it up at the register for you while you browse?" He slid the book off of the shelf. "That way, it won't get bought while you're making your decision."

The young woman stared at the employee. _He _did_ see me trying to steal it._ She wondered why he wasn't mentioning it. "Um, okay, thanks. But won't your manager be mad if you hid a book for me?"

The young man blinked once, then smiled. "I don't think so. I'm the manager."

_This kid?_ Chzzck tilted her head. That did explain his confidence, but the young man was definitely younger than Chzzck... most likely no older than sixteen or seventeen.

"Chzzck!" She looked across the store as Syarnorke rushed in through the front door. "Come on, we should go!" Syarnorke froze as he saw the person Chzzck was with.

"Hi," the Chain Guy said with a smile.

"...Hi..." Syarnorke responded. He grabbed Chzzck's arm and started to pull her away. "Come, you missed the... meeting. I need to fill you in."

"But..."

"Let's go!"

Chzzck looked at the blond young man. "Oh, I'll still hold this for you, if you like," he said, holding up the book.

"No, it's okay. 'Bye!" She let Syarnorke pull her out of the store and down the street. Once they were several blocks away, they stopped.

"Well?" asked Syarnorke.

"Well, what?"

"What were you just doing?" snapped the normally easygoing young man.

"Oh... well, that guy caught me trying to steal that book..." she said with a frown. "I was impressed that he saw me, actually... But he was acting like I hadn't done anything. It was weird. I thought for sure I'd have to deal with cops or security, or something." She hesitated as she noted the odd look on Syarnorke's face. "Maybe he didn't want trouble?"

"That was the Chain Guy, Chzzck!"

The young woman's mouth formed an "o." "You're kidding!" She glanced down the street in the direction of the store. "He seemed so... normal. Well, other than the fact that he saw me stealing." She looked at Syarnorke. "So, should we go back and kill him?"

Syarnorke groaned and smacked himself on the forehead.

-----

Curarpikt couldn't stop the relieved look that came to his face when he returned home and found Quwrof reading on the sofa. The man didn't inquire about the look, but he knew that the boy had thought that Quwrof might not be here again. He gave the boy a welcoming smile. Things were going surprisingly well, since Curarpikt had already come to rely on their friendship as a sort of anchor in his life. Perhaps Syarnorke's plan wasn't as far-fetched as he'd initially thought.

Still, he had qualms about trying to seduce the boy. He was just a kid, after all, albeit a visually pleasing one, and Quwrof had seen no indication of the boy's orientation. For now, Quwrof would wait and see how Matiy did.

"How was your day?" the man asked.

"It was a bit more interesting than usual," Curarpikt responded, joining Quwrof on the sofa.

"Oh, really?" Quwrof asked. His immediate thought was of Chzzck. _What did she do?_

Curarpikt relaxed into the backrest. "I saw someone trying to steal from the store."

_I just knew it..._ Quwrof had to stop himself from closing his eyes and sighing. _Wait, he saw it? Chzzck would never let herself be seen..._ "What did you do?"

"Nothing, really. I just stopped it from happening and let the person go."

"You let the guy go?" This was interesting. Perhaps the boy wasn't as moralistic as he'd initially assumed... Or maybe it was just some bizarre compassion for a hard-luck case.

"Not a guy, actually. It was a girl."

_Oh..._ "Really? What was she like?"

"She was a normal girl, about my age, with glasses and dark hair. But she was really quick. I almost missed seeing the attempt."

_Chzzck..._ Quwrof almost rolled his eyes. _Wait, hold on..._ He looked at Curarpikt who had leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The boy had been able to see Chzzck's attempt to steal... He was already emitting aura without knowing it, and he was quick enough to spot a Ryodan member committing a crime. Quwrof was beginning to appreciate that the boy could be potentially dangerous to the Genei Ryodan without even trying to be. Curarpikt apparently had natural abilities that weren't related to his nen. Of course, that would have to be the case for someone to successfully acquire a Hunter License.

"Tired?" he asked.

Without opening his eyes, Curarpikt said, "No, just resting my eyes. I had to go over a lot of forms today. The previous manager kept lousy records."

And that was the other thing. Not only did the boy have natural physical abilities, he was also incredibly intelligent and capable of handling just about anything. Not that Quwrof ever had any doubts about his own ability, but he couldn't help but wonder if it wouldn't be as easy as he'd anticipated to kill Curarpikt once he'd regained his nen.

_Oh, but I promised Nobunaga that honor._

_But not permanently... _Back in Yorkshin, he had told the swordsman to do whatever he wanted with the Chain Guy once Phalcnothdk had his memories. But that condition couldn't be met anymore...

_Quwrof, you devious bastard._ He smiled. He was no Hyskoa, but he did like the occasional challenging opponent. And the boy sitting next to him was certainly that. Or would be, if they could get his memories back.

Smart, capable, quick, dangerous, intriguing...

Intriguing. That described the boy well. Quwrof decided that he wasn't about to let Nobunaga have the fun of challenging him. He let his eyes roam over Curarpikt, who, fortunately, still had his eyes closed. The boy was so slender, even for a teenaged boy, and had such smooth features, and long, thin fingers. He looked not unlike a porcelain doll, with long lashes resting against his cheeks, fine flaxen hair, and a delicate mouth. Well, minus the sage green turtleneck and grey pants...

Yes, it would definitely be interesting to see how this boy handled a combat situation.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond. Basically, an AU fic. I'd also like to point out that Lynlyn inspired me to begin writing this. Thanks, Lynlyn!

Standard disclaimers apply...

* * *

**Hunt for the Intangible - Chapter 4**

Matiy was not in a good mood. But she plastered a smile on her face and walked up the few steps leading to the back door of the store. Both the bookstore and the cafe opened at 9 AM, but Weirna, the woman who managed the cafe, was there every morning at 8 AM to sign for the delivery of baked goods and to get the cafe in working order. For her first day on the job, Matiy had been asked to arrive at 8 AM as well so that she could be trained.

_I'm going to severely hurt Syar and Dancho when this is through..._

"Good morning, Matiy," the plump woman said. She handed Matiy a black apron. "Are you excited about your first day?"

"Thrilled." Matiy showed her teeth. She heard a truck pull up as she accepted the apron.

"Oh, perfect timing, as always. Come, you can meet the driver."

Ten minutes later, Matiy's mood was even worse, as the driver had continually tried to hit on her. She glared at the register as Weirna showed her how to work it.

"Any questions?"

"No," she said, then looked across the store as she heard the front doors being unlocked. Her eyes narrowed as a familiar-looking blonde stepped through the doors, then turned and locked them again. _The Chain Guy..._ From Phalcnothdk's memories, she had gathered that he was a ruthless, calculating, brilliant adversary. She had to make a conscious effort not to tense as he approached.

"Good morning, Weirna," he said cheerfully before making eye contact with Matiy. "I assume you're Matiy? Welcome. I'm Curarpikt." He held out his right hand. _No chains._ She hesitated before taking his hand.

"Did you have breakfast? Do you want a muffin?" Weirna asked.

"No, thanks. I might come for a coffee later, though." He looked at Matiy again. "You'll enjoy working with Weirna. She's great at taking care of others." Weirna smiled in response. The blond glanced at his watch and made a slight face. "I need to get ready. Have a good first day." He smiled at the two women once more before walking away.

Matiy relaxed. She'd felt a little unnerved at how different he seemed from Phalcnothdk's memories. Weirna, misinterpreting the action, grinned. "He's cute, isn't he? He's the new manager. He's really competent and knowledgeable, despite his age. He's done wonders for the store in his short time here."

"He's new, too, huh? Where's he from?" Matiy asked. She wondered what the Chain Guy was tellling others about himself.

"Oh, I don't know. He's friendly enough, but he's rather private." She looked like she wanted to say more. "But he's a really nice kid, very polite, sweet. And you can't help but trust him."

Matiy raised an eyebrow. The Chain Guy is sweet?

Weirna was grinning at her again. "What?" Matiy asked.

"Maybe you could get to know him better," the older woman said. "You two would make a cute couple."

Matiy groaned inwardly. _I am so going to hurt those idiots!_

* * *

Matiy's shift ended at 1:30 PM, several hours before the Chain Guy's. He had been busy during her fifteen-minute break, so she needed a reason to spend some extra time in the store to talk with him. But Matiy was not a big fan of reading... _Why couldn't Chzzck be doing this? _Matiy growled softly as she took off her apron. She scanned the store and saw the Chain Guy behind the counter, talking on the phone. With a resigned sigh, she walked across the store. 

The boy set down the phone as she reached the counter. He gave Matiy a warm smile. "Are you done for the day?" he inquired. Matiy nodded. "How was your first day?"

_Annoying as hell._ "Fine. Thanks for asking." She stared at the Chain Guy, uncertain of how to continue.

"Did you need something?" he inquired politely.

"Um, yeah, I was hoping you could recommend a book," she said quickly. "Weirna said that you're really knowledgeable."

"That's kind of her," he said. "What are you interested in?"

_Combat._ "Um..."

"Well, were you looking for fiction or non-fiction?"

"I... uh..." she paused, looking more closely at the blonde. _Oh..._ She finally placed what had seemed so odd to her. In Phalcnothdk's memories, the Chain Guy had black eyes! But the eyes upon her now were hazel. _He was hiding his Crimson Eyes!_ And without the dark eyes showing nothing but coldness and fury, the Chain Guy could actually be called beautiful. The planes of his face were smooth, not angular and hairy like many young men entering adulthood, with pale skin that probably did not tan easily. And his eyes were framed by long lashes. Matiy was not particularly vain about her own beauty, but she felt a perverse annoyance at the fact that the Chain Guy could probably compete with her.

The blond inclined his head slightly. "Is there something wrong with my eyes?" he asked curiously.

Matiy blinked. "Oh, um... you have lovely eyes," she said hurriedly, then berated herself for not coming up with a better line. _Damnit, I'm no better at this than Chzzck would be!_

The boy blushed slightly. "Thank you." He paused. "So, fiction or non-fiction?"

"Um, how about fiction?"

"Mystery, action, romance, fantasy..."

"Action?" Matiy suggested. "Preferably with a great villain?"

The Chain Guy grinned. "You like bad guys? Okay, come this way. I can show you a few good books." He stepped around the counter and gestured for Matiy to follow.

Matiy watched as the boy scanned a shelf and pulled out a small stack of books. Her eyes kept wandering to his right hand. A morbid fascination had her almost wishing she could see the chains materialized. How could such a harmless-looking boy, mere years out of childhood, create such a lethal and effective weapon? His hatred of the Ryodan had to have been extreme, as well as his discipline, if what Chzzck had said about the training required of materializing nen-users was correct. The young woman had added that it would have been even more difficult to learn to create something as detailed and intricate as chains.

"These two involve war, this one espionage," the Chain Guy's voice intruded into her thoughts, "and these two involve thievery."

_Action and thievery? Might not be that bad..._ "Which of these two is better?"

"They're both good." The Chain Guy looked at the two books in question. "Would you prefer a male or female protagonist?"

"Doesn't matter. What about the villain, though? Do either of them have a female villain?"

The Chain Guy handed her one of the books, raising one eyebrow slightly. "Are you looking for a role model?" he smiled.

"Maybe."

Several minutes later, Matiy left the store with a legitimate purchase. She passed a trash can and hesitated, briefly considering throwing the book away. If she were to read it, though, she would have a reason to talk with the Chain Guy later. _I should make Chzzck read it and tell me about it..._ Matiy growled internally before tucking the book into her coat pocket and continuing on.

_I guess I should read it. It'll be interesting to see what sort of book the Chain Guy chose for me._

* * *

"Hey, how'd it go?" Syarnorke asked, a huge grin on his face. Matiy had to fight the urge to forcefully remove it. 

"Absolutely lovely," she responded, her smile and tone saccharine. "I spent the day coming up with various ways of causing you severe pain and bodily harm. I'll have to share them with you sometime." Syarnorke laughed.

"How'd what go? Where've you been?" Chzzck asked from the carpeted floor. The Ryodan had rented an apartment so that Matiy would have an address that could be confirmed, but no one could be bothered to get furniture.

"Her first day on the job," Nobunaga said. "Remember? At the bookstore?"

Matiy flopped down on the floor. "Nobunaga, you should know better than to use the word 'remember' when you're speaking to Chzzck." Which was the main reason that Matiy was the one stuck with the unenviable job of serving coffee and baked goods several hours a day...

Chzzck shrugged, accustomed by now to such comments, and returned to the book she'd been reading. Matiy watched her for a moment before pulling out the book she had purchased earlier. She turned it over in her hand several times, staring at it.

"It's a book, Matiy. It's not going to bite," Nobunaga finally said.

Chzzck looked up. "_You're_ going to read?" she asked curiously.

Matiy lifted her head, preparing a biting comment, when the front door opened. Quwrof entered. He nodded to the group and sat on the floor with his back against a wall.

"Well?" he inquired, looking at Matiy.

"I didn't kill anyone, and I bought a book," the young woman responded. "You can call it a productive day or not, depending on your perspective." Matiy herself was of the mind that she had wasted her day so far, even with the ideas she had developed for torturing Syarnorke, and Quwrof, too, if she could get away with it.

Quwrof held out his hand and accepted the book from Matiy. "A book, huh?" He glanced at the cover and quirked his brow before returning the book to the young woman. "Good choice."

"Well, I needed a reason to talk with the Chain Guy."

"And?"

"I have to say, Dancho, it was bizarre. He's nothing like the guy in Phalc's memories. He seemed... harmless." Quwrof raised an eyebrow at Matiy. She hesitated. "Okay, well, I could sense the potential of his nen, but he's doing nothing with it."

"Of course not," Syarnorke said. "He probably doesn't even know he's emitting aura."

"If he has so much potential..." Chzzck began slowly.

"It's not 'if.' We've seen what he can do. We _know_ he is, was, could be..." Syarnorke shook his head, annoying himself with the syntax, "a very powerful nen-user."

"If he has so much potential," Chzzck repeated at the same tempo, ignoring the interruption, "wouldn't it be useful to the Ryodan to have him join and train him to suit our purpose?"

The other members stared at the young woman, mouths hanging open. "That's actually not a bad idea," Syarnorke finally said, trying to get over the fact that Chzzck had come up with it. "Very wicked."

Nobunaga erupted in rage, hand on the hilt of his sword. "There is no way that the Chain Guy is going to join us! He killed Wberer! He's the enemy!" He sputtered furiously, glaring at Chzzck for daring to mention such an idea.

Matiy snorted. "You're one to talk, Nobunaga. Weren't you the one who kept trying to recruit the Chain Guy's little friends?"

Nobunaga turned on the young woman, mouth open to protest. He stopped, shut his mouth, opened it again, then closed it sheepishly. "...That's different," he mumbled, hand going to the back of his head. Matiy rolled her eyes.

"Nobunaga does have a valid point," Quwrof said. "The idea _had_ crossed my mind... but the original plan was to get Curarpikt to remember us so we can properly avenge Wberer."

"So, on with the plan, then," Syarnorke said energetically, standing in one motion. "I've located someone who can help us with the nurse-the-Chain-Guy-back-to-health plan, so I might be gone for a couple of days."

"You're leaving now?" Matiy asked.

The young man flashed her a charming smile. "Yes. I stuck around till now because I wanted to see how frazzled you looked after your first day serving people."

Matiy tried to trip him as he walked past her. He turned, gave her a quick bow, then left the apartment.

"Where are Phynkss and Heytun?" Quwrof suddenly asked.

The others exchanged looks. "Oh, they're exploring," Nobunaga said with a sheepish grin.

The leader narrowed his eyes slightly. "No trouble, guys. I don't want you drawing unnecessary attention to yourselves." He looked specifically at Nobunaga. "I mean it. Absolutely no trouble."

"We know, Dancho, you've already told us that," Nobunaga snorted. "They were just tired of hanging around here all day."

"They can return to Ryusei City at any time."

"And miss the chance to see the Chain Guy die?" Nobunaga asked, feigning horror. "Don't forget, Dancho, as soon as he remembers, he's mine!"

Quwrof made a noncommittal sound in his throat.

"Assuming he does remember," Chzzck added calmly.

* * *

Quwrof was fortunate that Curarpikt was a naturally private person, because it also meant that he didn't pry into Quwrof's business and showed little curiosity about the man's life. Still, Quwrof did occasionally find himself having to make up details of his life on the spot as certain questions came up in the natural flow of daily conversation. So far, he had concocted the life of a wealthy business owner who traveled for both business and pleasure, often combining both, and as a result, was familiar with many parts of the world. This "fact" was one of the few that greatly interested Curarpikt, and the boy would ask about places Quwrof had visited, curious about indigenous people and local customs. It was at these times that Quwrof occasionally had to make up a tale about his interactions with the locals, since, in reality, most of his interactions tended to end abruptly and violently for the other party... 

So Quwrof would tell the boy embellished versions of his travels, minus the gore, occasionally inserting a Ryodan member or two in his tales. And Curarpikt turned out to be a great listener. It had never really occurred to the Ryodan leader that his interactions with the Ryodan often did not go beyond giving orders. But then, other than killing and stealing, he didn't necessarily share a lot of interests with the others. Syarnorke shared his intellect, but his interests leaned more towards the technological. He, like Curarpikt, seemed to know something about everything, but Syarnorke wasn't necessarily interested in the things he researched. Chzzck was a bright girl, but her poor retention interfered with her intelligence and with conversations. Actually, no one in the Ryodan lacked intelligence, although they might seem to occasionally lack judgment... But they never really sat around chatting, usually going their separate ways after each mission.

A smile found its way onto Quwrof's lips as he imagined the Ryodan sitting down to tea, discussing the latest gossip.

"Something amusing?" Curarpikt asked. He was finishing up the dinner dishes so he waved a sudsy hand in front of Quwrof's face.

"Oh, my mind was just wandering," the man responded, pushing away from the counter he was leaning against.

"Well, don't let it wander too far, or you might not get it back," the boy responded with a slight smile. "Then where would we be, with neither of us knowing who we are?"

Quwrof walked to the sofa and sat down, watching Curarpikt out of one eye. He had to admit that he was impressed with how well the boy was dealing with his situation, even making jokes about it. He mused over Chzzck's earlier comment. It might be useful to have Curarpikt as a Ryodan member. He'd dismissed the idea when he'd initially thought of it because there were so many ways that things could go wrong. What if the boy somehow regained his memory while with the Ryodan? Assuming that they had succeeded in turning him into a nen-user worthy of the Ryodan, that would make him a dangerous foe the moment he remembered his hatred... Was it worth the risk? Not to mention the chaos that would ensue, courtesy of a few of the members... Maybe he could just steal the boy's ability at that point? But with his memory back, it would not be easy for Quwrof to fulfil his nen requirements to steal the ability.

Curarpikt dried off his hands and started to walk to the bedroom to get his coat for his evening walk.

"Curarpikt," Quwrof began almost hesitantly.

The boy stopped and turned towards the man.

"What do you imagine your life was like before?"

Curarpikt sighed. "I try not to. It'd just frustrate me."

"But you have wondered if you weren't some sort of criminal." This wasn't a question, since Quwrof knew that Curarpikt feared that his past wasn't one to be proud of.

The boy didn't respond, merely staring at Quwrof.

"Let's say, hypothetically, that you were a... thief. Would you hate yourself then?"

After a moment, Curarpikt joined Quwrof on the sofa, sensing a longer conversation. "I guess it would depend on the reasons behind my thievery... Honestly, though, I wouldn't be too pleased with myself."

Quwrof nodded. He'd expected that the boy's moral convictions wouldn't change that easily. "And what if you'd killed someone?"

The boy remained silent for a long time. "I don't know. Once again, it would depend on the reason. Was I defending myself? Or someone else? Was it a ruthless criminal who had escaped the law?" He gave the man a long look. "Why are you asking me this?"

"I'm wondering about what is best," Quwrof said. "If you never regained your memory, would you be content working in a bookstore for the rest of your life?"

Curarpikt's eyes widened slightly. "Rest of my life?" he echoed. "That's a long time to consider. A lot of things could happen in a lifetime." His eyes went to the bag of books he'd brought back from the store that day. "For now, I guess I'm content with the way things are. Mundane, but peaceful."

"Another hypothetical question then." Quwrof considered how to phrase his question. "What if you learned that you were indeed a killer and a thief? Would you end this lifestyle and go back to the old?"

The boy's eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to depress me? Why would I willingly 'go back' to a life of crime if just imagining it upsets me?" His brows furrowed. "Unless my memories affect my basic personality. Which I highly doubt."

"Good point," Quwrof said. He now knew for certain that the boy would not willingly turn to the Ryodan's lifestyle. But what if he was somehow tricked into it? No, the boy was not stupid...

This would require some thought and possible discussion with the other members.

* * *

As she neared the store, Matiy could see the Chain Guy putting up a poster on one of the glass doors. He raised one hand to acknowledge her, then opened the door as she approached. 

"Good morning," he said, locking the door again after she entered.

"Morning," the young woman responded. "A book signing, huh?" She nodded towards the poster.

"Yes, next week," the Chain Guy said. "The cafe will probably be busy that day."

_Ugh._ "That's good," Matiy smiled. She would have to hope that she was back in Ryusei City by then.

"He writes historical fiction. Some of it involves war and espionage. You might like it," the blond said. "A little gory, though."

"You've read them?" The young man nodded. Matiy regarded him with interest. "You really like books, huh?" She was just slightly impressed that he was familiar with so many of them.

The Chain Guy's smile was distant. "They're reliable company."

"Not a big fan of people?"

"What?" The Chain Guy's brows drew together slightly. "I don't know about that..." he said hesitantly. He appeared to be trying to remember something. He sighed. "We should get ready. It's almost 9."

"... Sure." Matiy made her way towards the cafe. She greeted Weirna and put on her apron. She could see the Chain Guy talking with one of the salespeople.

From what she had seen of him the day before, he was friendly, and the staff and customers seemed to like him. Weirna had made it clear that business had visibly improved with his arrival at the store. So the boy was resilient, functioning well, extremely well, despite his missing past. Matiy had also learned that no one seemed to know of his memory loss, so the Chain Guy was good at deception...

Of course, the Ryodan already knew that, from the Yorkshin fiasco when he had managed to make off with their leader, right under their noses. And had managed to convince Phalcnothdk that he would sacrifice his friends to kill the Genei Ryodan leader.

As far as Matiy was concerned, the boy was dangerous. Or, would be again with his memory recovered. Her instincts also told her that should it happen, things would change drastically within the Ryodan. And her instincts were never wrong. She'd even been right about those two kids having something to do with the Chain Guy. Hell, they'd ended up being friends and accomplices of the Chain Guy!

... She never did get around to telling Nobunaga, "I told you so."

Still, Chzzck did have a point. Aside from the morality thing, the Chain Guy was perfect Ryodan material. Powerful, cunning, intelligent, devious, determined, loyal... the list could go on. Matiy, too, had known Wbererguin from the beginning of the Ryodan's existence, but she also accepted that death happened in the line of duty. Wberer made his choice and died honorably. And he wasn't the first Ryodan member to be killed. Hyskoa had killed the former Number 4 almost three years ago. And a Zaoldyeck had killed Chzzck's predecessor shortly before that. Yet both men still lived, not pursued by the Ryodan.

Well, Matiy would happily kill Hyskoa, given the opportunity...

But she didn't feel the same way about the Chain Guy. Perhaps it was because she felt a measure of respect for the boy.

Of course, it wasn't up to her whether he lived or died.

"Can't keep your eyes off of him?" Weirna's teasing voice brought Matiy's thoughts back to the cafe.

"I wasn't staring!" she denied. The older woman simply chuckled. Still, Matiy made it a point to avoid looking into the main part of the store for the rest of the morning.

A little after 1PM, though, shortly before her shift would end, the Chain Guy wandered over to the cafe without his apron.

"You're actually taking time for lunch today?" Weirna asked. "You really don't eat enough," she said disapprovingly.

"I always have breakfast," the boy insisted. Then added guiltily, "Well, almost always. I just occasionally forget to have lunch..."

"Occasionally," the woman snorted, hands on her plump hips. "So, what'll it be?"

"A coffee," he leaned down and looked into the glass, "and one of those sandwiches." The woman nodded and gestured for him to sit down.

The Chain Guy sat at the table near the window. Moments later, Weirna set his order on the table, along with two tarts.

"What are these?" the boy asked curiously. "I didn't order these."

"You don't eat enough," Weirna repeated firmly. "Try it. The delivery guy said it's a new recipe. Pumpkin." She turned to Matiy who was watching from behind the register, cringing slightly at the mention of the delivery guy. "Matiy, why don't you call it a day since you end soon anyway. I want you to try this new tart, too." She patted the other chair at the small table. "You can keep the manager company."

Matiy wanted to groan. _You busybody, gossipy, matchmaking...!_ She glared at the woman as they passed each other. Weirna just chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll clock you out at the right time."

"Do you mind?" Matiy asked resignedly as she sat down.

"Not at all," the young man responded. He handed her the tart and a paper napkin. Matiy was curious if he had any suspicions about Weirna's less-than-innocent intentions.

They ate in silence for awhile, the Chain Guy's eyes going to the scene outside, and Matiy's surreptitiously going to the young man beside her. He was obviously not the talkative sort, which the young woman could appreciate. Men who talked too much were an annoyance.

Once again, Matiy's thoughts turned to his memory loss. She wondered what it was like to not remember anything about oneself. She wondered what he was feeling. And she wondered what he was thinking at this moment as he looked out the window.

He sighed softly, then turned back to face her, eyebrows rising minutely as he noticed Matiy's scrutiny. "How's the tart?" he inquired.

She had to think about it for a moment as she hadn't been paying attention to the taste. "It's good," she said. He smiled. "Why the sigh?" she asked as he sipped his coffee.

The Chain Guy blinked in surprise, not expecting to have been heard. "...I was wondering about the people passing by. About their lives." His eyes went to the window again. "So many people. So many different thoughts and experiences..." his voice trailed off.

Matiy thought that she heard a hint of longing in his words. She couldn't very well tell him that she knew of his condition... "Are you wishing for someone else's life?" she asked instead, curious about his response.

He turned away from the window, hazel eyes half-lidded. "... Something like that," he responded. He tilted his head slightly and smiled. "Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for the life I have now."

"But you're missing something," Matiy pressed.

Surprisingly, the boy started chuckling. It escalated to laughter, and the boy had to wipe a tear from his eye. Matiy stared at him, perplexed. "No, I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you. It's just..." He stopped, considering his words. "I'm sorry. I can't explain."

"Can't, or won't."

The Chain Guy looked apologetic. "Won't."

_Well, he's honest._ She wasn't certain how good a trait that was for the Genei Ryodan... But then, the boy was capable of being cunning as well. "You're a strange kid, you know that?" she asked.

He looked mildly offended. "Kid? You don't look that much older than me."

She smiled. Thanks to the use of ten, many nen-users looked much younger than their actual age. "Yeah, well, how old are you, then?" she challenged. Would he lie and make up a number?

The boy opened his mouth to respond, then paused, looking slightly dismayed. "...I can't answer that."

"Can't or won't."

"...Can't." She had expected that. She vaguely recalled Syarnorke mentioning something about the Kuruta tribe being strongly against lies and dishonesty. Which explained why some of his responses were frustratingly ambiguous...

Matiy gave him an inquiring look. Then she nodded. "Okay, I'm not going to ask," she said. She wasn't going to rush things. She couldn't let the Chain Guy become suspicious.

The young man gave her a weak, relieved smile. "Thanks."

"But I still think you're a strange kid," Matiy added wickedly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond. Basically, an AU fic.

This chapter has been edited and reposted 2/28/09 due to a very minor error…

Standard disclaimers apply...

* * *

**Hunt for the Intangible - Chapter 5**

Quwrof awoke to rain on Saturday. At 7AM, the sky was still dark, and the rain was coming down forcefully. It reminded him of the evening in Yorkshin three months ago... Everything had changed on that single evening.

He got up and stepped into the bedroom. Curarpikt was not in bed. Quwrof glanced around and discovered the boy sitting on the floor in front of the window, staring out at the rain. He was still in his pajamas, knees drawn to his chest and hands tucked beneath bare feet. The blond turned slightly to acknowledge Quwrof.

"Morning."

"Morning," the man responded. It amazed Quwrof slightly that the boy's hair never looked unruly, even upon awakening. His own tended to look a little crazy after a night of sleep, and added to the tattoo on his forehead, it made him appear wild at times.

Interestingly, Curarpikt had never inquired about the tattoo. Granted, Quwrof had kept his bangs down while in Sonisco, but it did peek out from between his hair with movement. The boy apparently applied to others his own desire for privacy, and he simply did not ask prying questions.

"I guess this will cut into our plans to explore the city," Quwrof commented.

Curarpikt sighed. "Remind me to never again rely on the weather report." He looked outside again. "I guess I should consider getting an umbrella or a raincoat."

Quwrof chuckled. "I'm going to get showered. You can think of something else to do in the meantime."

They ended up going to a nearby shopping gallery. Curarpikt wasn't too enthusiastic, but Quwrof pointed out that the boy's closet and apartment were pathetically empty. And he really needed to be better prepared for the winter weather, since it would likely snow in a few weeks. Quwrof was amused to learn that as he'd suspected, the blond had absolutely no interest in fashion and selected his clothing purely on comfort and function. The Ryodan leader prided himself on his style, so he entertained himself by forcing the boy to try on outfits that he'd selected.

After some time, Curarpikt commented wryly, "I feel like a dress-up doll. You're having way too much fun at my expense, Quwrof."

The man laughed. "Well, how often does one get to do something like this?" He'd once tried to get Phynkss and Colthophy to wear something more interesting and befitting members of the most-feared Genei Ryodan... with the expected results. Curarpikt was definitely more interesting to dress, being much more aesthetically pleasing than the burly Phynkss or the non-descript Colthophy.

But the boy was as unwilling as the two Ryodan members to adopt Quwrof's style. The man was unable to get Curarpikt to purchase anything he'd selected for the blond.

"Such a shame," Quwrof said, shaking his head sadly. "You could have girls fawning over you." And the opposite gender as well...

The boy rolled his eyes. "Right. That'd go over well. 'Hi, I know nothing of my past, but would you like to go out? I promise I'm an honest, up-standing citizen that you can take home to your parents,'" he scoffed.

"Point taken." Quwrof regarded the boy. "Still, it's a shame. You have pathetically bland taste in clothing."

"I prefer the term 'practical.'"

Quwrof wouldn't exactly call the Kuruta attire he'd seen the boy in "practical," especially with the long skirt that would probably get in the way during a fight. But Curarpikt most likely wore it for sentimental and cultural reasons. The receptionist's outfit, however, was another story. While the purpose in wearing it had been practical for the boy, a means to an end, the outfit itself had been far from it. Quwrof smiled as he imagined telling the conservative blond just how good he looked in a mini skirt.

Curarpikt was right. Quwrof was having fun at the boy's expense.

* * *

-----

Syarnorke returned the following afternoon. Quwrof left the apartment to meet the young man, telling Curarpikt that he was going to an internet cafe to check for business messages. The Ryodan leader met with Syarnorke back at the rented apartment.

"How should it be administered?" Quwrof asked, accepting a tiny vial from the young man.

"Just spike his food or drink with it. It's slow-acting enough that it'll seem like a normal flu. Oh, but it might have an odd taste, the guy told me. Make sure you put it in something with a strong flavor."

Quwrof used gyou to examine the vial. "It's a nen-based drug, I see."

"Yeah, from a specialized nen-user." The young man grinned. "He makes a killing selling to students who need a medical reason to miss their exams."

"Why would you make yourself sick just to skip a test?" Chzzck wondered.

"Oh, but he also sells antidotes, so the kids get their medical excuse, then take the antidote and go off to party, or something like that," Syarnorke replied. "Like I said, he makes a killing."

Quwrof snorted. "You're certain this works, Syar?" he asked, tucking the vial into his coat pocket. The young man nodded. "Very well," the leader sighed. "We'll see what happens."

He picked up dinner on the way back. Once he was back in the apartment, the items that needed to be warm found their way into a pot and a pan. _I'm turning domestic..._ Quwrof found the situation somewhat amusing.

"Can I help?" asked Curarpikt.

Quwrof declined assistance and sent the boy to the sofa. He didn't need Curarpikt hovering around the kitchen when he needed to empty the vial into the boy's food.

The food was heated in just a few minutes. Curarpikt wandered back into the kitchen as Quwrof began to set the table. "What are we having?" the blond inquired, eyeing the plates as Quwrof picked them up from the counter.

"A curry dish from the Aigien continent. I found a little family-owned restaurant near here. Do you like spicy food?" Quwrof laughed, "Although I guess it's a little late to be asking."

"Don't worry, I can handle spicy food," the boy responded as he placed ice cubes in two glasses. He set them on the table, along with a pitcher, then sat. Quwrof joined him a moment later with two smaller plates of vegetables.

"Well?" Quwrof inquired after a moment of watching the boy eat.

Curarpikt grinned. "I'm not going to breathe fire at you." Still, he reached for his glass and took a sip. "It's good."

He had spiked the boy's curry. Quwrof wondered if it affected the flavor of the food at all.

"This reminds me," Curarpikt said suddenly, "that the art museum will have an exhibit of historical artifacts from a few inland nations of the Aigien continent. Late 1200's to mid 1600's. Do you want to go see it next weekend?"

"Sounds good," Quwrof responded. "You wanted to make plans before I ended up suggesting shopping for clothing again?" he teased. The boy made a face, then grinned.

The light rain that had been falling through the afternoon had stopped by the time they finished dinner, so Curarpikt went out for his walk. But he returned earlier than usual, closing the door behind him with a weary sigh.

"That was a short walk," Quwrof pointed out.

The blond removed his coat and draped it on a chair. "I started to feel really tired suddenly." He poured a glass of water and drank nearly half of it at once.

"Maybe you're coming down with something?" the man suggested.

The boy shook his head. "I hope not. I've a busy week ahead of me." He set the glass in the sink and picked up his coat. "Sorry to abandon you so early, but I think I'll retire early tonight."

Quwrof nodded. "You do that. You probably just need a good night's sleep."

He hadn't expected the drug to start working so quickly. But then, Syarnorke hadn't really given him details about its effects. Just how sick would the boy become? Quwrof pulled out his phone. After a moment, he returned it to his pocket. It would be better if he didn't know, or he might end up anticipating certain symptoms and possibly act unnaturally. He would learn soon enough.

* * *

-----

Dancho must have been able to get the Chain Guy to take the drug. All morning, Matiy watched the boy surreptitiously, her sharp eyes noting that his movements were gradually becoming sluggish. It was just past noon now, and he was leaning against a display table, brows furrowed. It was obvious to Matiy that the Chain Guy was not feeling well. She rolled her eyes. He was clearly the type to overwork himself.

To Matiy's surprise and consternation, Syarnorke entered the store, his eyes casually scanning the aisles until he spotted the Chain Guy. _What the hell is he doing here?_ Matiy watched as the young man casually strolled down the magazine aisle and picked up a magazine.

The Chain Guy looked up and noticed Syarnorke. He walked up to the young man who appeared to be focused on the magazine.

"Hi," the boy said.

Syarnorke looked up hesitantly. "Hi..." He started to look away.

"You're not with that girl today? The one with the glasses?"

The young man's eyes widened in surprise. "You remember me? You only saw me for a few seconds..." His eyes roamed over the blond, observing the pale skin and slightly flushed cheeks.

The boy shrugged. "I have a good memory, I guess." Syarnorke could almost hear the irony in the boy's tone. "Will you be seeing her again soon?"

"...Yes. Why?"

The Chain Guy walked to the counter and reached under one of the registers. He returned with a small paper bag. "Would you give this to her? I was hoping she would return, but if you'll be seeing her..."

Syarnorke peered into the bag. It held a familiar-looking book. The one Chzzck was trying to steal? He looked up, confused.

"Oh, it's paid for," the blonde smiled.

Syarnorke looked around the store, uncertain of how to react. His eyes met Matiy's, who was listening to the conversation. "Why?" he finally asked. "I mean," and he lowered his voice, "she was trying to steal it, right? Why didn't you report her?"

"It's not like she was trying to rob a bank or steal priceless items," the Chain Guy explained. "And she didn't actually get to steal it. Besides, I don't think a lack of funds should keep someone from enjoying a good book." He smiled, and Syarnorke did as well, but for a different reason. "I was fortunate enough to run into some good luck recently, so why not share the good fortune? But tell her that the next time she wants a book, she should try the library..." He paused. "And that if she ever tries to steal again, I will take action against her." This was said without menace, but the boy's expression was serious.

"Uh, right..." Syarnorke laughed weakly. He watched as the Chain Guy walked away, feeling somewhat perplexed. _What a weird kid..._ Then he paid for the magazine in his hand and went to the cafe.

"May I help you?" Matiy asked, her tone friendly but her expression far from it.

"Yeah, I'll have that cheese croissant and a latte." He watched as Matiy prepared his order. The plump woman stepped around the counter and cleared one of the small tables. Matiy quickly glanced at the woman's back, then leaned closer to Syarnorke.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed quietly into his ear.

"I wanted to see how the drug was working," he whispered back. "Is he always that pale?" Matiy shook her head. "Good, then it's doing the job."

"Will you just get out of here?" Matiy almost slammed the drink and food onto the counter.

"I think I'll stick around," Syarnorke whispered, smiling. Then, in a clear voice, "Thanks, miss." He took his order and sat at the table the plump woman had just cleaned. He opened his magazine, but kept an eye on the Chain Guy.

Thirty minutes later, the Chain Guy approached the cafe counter. He placed both hands on the counter, leaning onto them. "Weirna, could I have some ice water?" he asked quietly.

The plump woman took one look at the boy and hurriedly reached across the counter. "What's wrong? You don't look so well." She touched his face with the back of her hand. "Goodness, boy, you have a fever!"

"I know," he replied, dropping his voice further and indicating that Weirna should do the same. "I'll be okay. Could I have the water, please?"

She hurriedly poured a glass and handed it to him. "You should go home!" She looked at her watch. "The evening manager will be here in a few hours. The others can handle the store until then. And Fyuli's shift starts soon, too."

The boy didn't respond. He accepted the glass and quickly downed the contents.

"She's right. You should go home," Matiy spoke up. If the Chain Guy left, there would be no reason for Syarnorke to remain in the store, and there would be less of a chance of something going wrong...

"I could drive you home," Syarnorke suggested.

_Damnit!_ Matiy closed her eyes. _Are you trying to give me an ulcer, Syar?_

The boy turned towards the young man, not aware that he'd been listening to the conversation. "What? No, it's okay. I live just down the street. A ten-minute walk."

"No, really. I'd be glad to. Let me do something for you," Syarnorke said, holding up the small paper bag for Chzzck.

Matiy watched with mixed feelings of relief and worry as the boy finally relented and allowed himself to be driven home. Syarnorke caught Matiy's eyes and mouthed the words, _Stop worrying!_ as he walked out of the store with the Chain Guy.

The boy climbed into the passenger seat, and Syarnorke turned the key.

"So, where do you live, Curarpikt?"

"Did I tell you my name?" the boy asked, confused. His brows were gathered in pain.

"That's what the cafe woman called you," the young man lied easily. "I'm Syarnorke, by the way."

The blond's lips turned up in a slight smile. "Syarnorke," he repeated. "Thanks for driving me. I live at the High Tide Apartments, on the corner of Twelfth and Wave," he added, in response to the young man's question.

"Okay, hang tight."

The boy closed his eyes as the car began moving. They reached the building in a matter of minutes. Syarnorke glanced at his passenger, wondering if he had fallen asleep. He took a moment to admire the boy's delicate features. Since receiving Phalcnothdk's memories, Syarnorke had pieced together that the Chain Guy was actually the same person who had bid on and accepted the Crimson Eyes from Phynkss at the Underground Auction. The same person whose face Syarnorke had admired that night... Except at the time, Syarnorke assumed that the person was a girl, a girl with somber black eyes.

"Hey? Curarpikt?"

The boy opened his eyes. His breathing was shallower, his condition having deteriorated more rapidly in the past few minutes.

"We're here."

Curarpikt opened the car door and leaned heavily against the dashboard. "Thank you, Syarnorke," he said, then slowly stepped out of the car. He had to brace himself against the door as he swayed slightly.

"Don't mention it," the young man said easily. He left the car as well and stepped around to Curarpikt. "What floor?"

The boy blinked, processing the question. "Oh, it's okay."

Syarnorke threw the boy's arm over his shoulder. "I don't think so; you're seriously leaning. Come on, what number?"

"...411."

Syarnorke ended up carrying the protesting boy for the last two flights of stairs since his pace abruptly slowed down after the second floor. As he reached the door numbered 411, it suddenly opened. Quwrof stood in the doorway, drawing back in surprise before smoothing his features into an expressionless mask.

"Uh, hi, are you his roommate?" Syarnorke asked the man. He stepped through the door as Quwrof cleared the way.

"...Yes..." Quwrof stared at Syarnorke's back with a look of mixed annoyance and confusion. "Curarpikt? What happened?" Quwrof followed the Ryodan member into the bedroom.

"Nothing. I'm fine. Just a little light-headed," Curarpikt responded wearily as Syarnorke set him on the bed.

"Your friend has a fever," Syarnorke said.

Quwrof placed a firm hand on the young man's shoulder and maneuvered him towards the door. "Well, I thank you for bringing him home. Let me see you out."

"Syarnorke," the boy called from the bed. Syarnorke turned back around. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," Syarnorke smiled, then let Quwrof push him out of the bedroom, across the main room, and out the front door.

The Ryodan leader turned on Syarnorke the moment the door closed. "Okay, what are you doing here?"

The young man smirked. "I seem to be getting a lot of that today. Matiy wasn't too pleased to see me, either."

"You went to the store. What were you thinking?"

"I was curious. I wanted to see the drug in action. I paid good money for that, you know. Besides, he never saw me in Yorkshin."

Quwrof had to stop himself from waving his arms agitatedly. "I know that, but there's no point in taking unnecessary risks! You just randomly volunteered to bring him home?"

Syarnorke made an exasperated sound. "Give me more credit than that, Dancho. I was near him when the cafe lady told him to go home. And we'd talked earlier, and, well, I owed him, sort of." He pulled Chzzck's book out of his coat pocket and explained the conversation he had with the Chain Guy. "That's an eccentric kid, Dancho," he added.

"So I've gathered," Quwrof sighed. "Just... no more stunts like this, alright, Syar?"

"Aye, sir!" He walked towards the stairs, then halted. "Oh, do you know how to take care of him? Do you need advice?'

"Get out of here!"

The young man laughed good-naturedly as he descended the stairs.

* * *

-----

Quwrof was not the nurturing type. In fact, none of the Ryodan was. Matiy came in handy when a limb needed reattaching, or a gaping wound needed sealing, but she had dreadful bedside manners, working silently, efficiently and without a hint of empathy for the one who was bleeding. Definitely not the nurturing type.

Meanwhile, Quwrof once again found himself in a situation he could almost consider funny; nursing the enemy back to health.

Only to kill him later, of course.

_The ironies of life._ Quwrof carried the bowl of ice water into the bedroom and seated himself on the floor beside the bed.

Curarpikt lay with his eyes closed, chest rising and falling more rapidly than usual.

"Curarpikt?" The boy opened one eye in response. "Did you take the fever reducer?"

"Yes," he answered, closing the eye again. "Don't knock over the glass. I set it down there." Quwrof looked down and found the glass a few inches from his right knee. He put the bowl beside it and placed a washcloth in the water.

"Still feeling dizzy?"

"Yes. And woozy. And queasy." The boy opened his eyes and smiled weakly. Quwrof snorted. He wrung the towel, folded it neatly, and placed it on the blond's forehead after pushing his bangs out of the way. His fingertips brushed against the boy's cheek as he withdrew his hand. Curarpikt's skin felt warmer than it had when he was first brought home by Syarnorke.

"Do you have an appetite?"

The boy thought for a moment. "Not particularly..." He made a slight face. "Actually, food sounds like the last thing I'd want right now."

"That bad, huh?" Quwrof wasn't surprised. The boy did _not_ look good. It was almost disturbing how well the nen drug was working. "You should have something, though. Did you have lunch at work?"

Curarpikt started to shake his head, then stopped as the washcloth began to slide off his forehead. Plus, the action didn't help his headache. He grimaced in pain. "No. It didn't seem that appetizing."

The man placed a hand on the boy's arm. "You didn't have much breakfast either," he reminded Curarpikt.

"I won't starve any time soon. I had a normal dinner."

If one could consider consuming a nen drug normal...

The boy's brows were still drawn together in pain. "Your head still hurts?"

"Throbbing."

Quwrof placed his right hand on Curarpikt's head and applied gentle pressure along the scalp. "Close your eyes," he ordered. The boy started to protest, then complied when Quwrof raised an eyebrow. The man continued massaging the blond's head.

"You shouldn't be sitting here for so long," Curarpikt murmured. "What if you get whatever I have?"

"I don't get sick."

Hazel eyes opened in disbelief. "Seriously," he said, his tone dry.

"Seriously. I don't get sick. Haven't been a single day in my life," the man responded. "Close your eyes," he said more firmly. Curarpikt closed them quickly.

"Well, if you _do_ get sick, I'm going to say 'I told you so.'"

"Be my guest. Then you can take care of me."

Curarpikt opened his eyes again. "You really don't have to stay with me, you know," he said, contrite.

"It's fine. You worry too much. I'll leave when I've had enough of you," Quwrof said, fingers still massaging the boy's scalp.

"That's a promise, right?"

Quwrof rolled his eyes. The guilt-ridden types could be so annoying to deal with. "I promise."

The boy sat up abruptly, causing Quwrof to lean back in surprise. Curarpikt pushed back the sheets and shoved past Quwrof.

"What...?" Quwrof started to ask. He stood and started to follow Curarpikt as he rushed towards the bathroom. "Are you going to be sick?" the man asked warily.

Curarpikt slammed the bathroom door closed in response.

* * *

-----

The boy had fallen asleep again, one arm resting above the sheets, the hand curled into a loose fist. His brows were furrowed, and his breathing quick and shallow. He still felt hot to the touch. Quwrof wondered briefly if Syarnorke's drug might accidentally kill the boy, burning the life right out of him. It would eliminate the need for him to figure out what to do about the blond, but it certainly wasn't ideal.

With a sigh, he re-moistened the washcloth and swept it over the boy's face. The blond shifted minutely and murmured something incomprehensible. Quwrof then grasped Curarpikt's wrist and wiped the cool cloth along the boy's exposed arm. Reaching under the covers, he brought out the other arm and repeated the process. The blond's arm was limp in his grip, a deadweight.

Quwrof regarded the boy and once more considered his unlikely role of nurse. Most of the Genei Ryodan originated from Ryusei City. So most didn't have the ideal childhood, cared for and nurtured by loving parents. In fact, many of them had been abandoned there very young. The children of Ryusei City survived by banding together, by being taken under the wings of an older protector, by using their wits. It suddenly occurred to Quwrof that Curarpikt's life hadn't been too unlike those of the Ryodan members. Except that the boy had been alone for years.

Empathy? He had no business feeling empathy for the enemy. Quwrof didn't feel anything for any enemy, ever, as a matter of fact. But he'd never encountered someone in quite the same situation as Curarpikt. Pity, then? No, it couldn't be that either.

The Ryodan leader glared at the sleeping boy. "Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you're causing me?" he grumbled to the oblivious blond.

He felt uneasy...

-----

He felt like absolute hell. He couldn't remember ever having felt so lousy in his whole life. _...What am I thinking? I don't even remember my life..._ It was probably the fever, muddling his mind and wreaking havoc on his thoughts so that he almost imagined remembering fragments of his past. The room kept swimming, and he felt seasick. No, the _bed_ was swimming. Floating. That's why he was seasick. He was being tossed around on a dark, stormy sea. There were no others in sight. _Others? What others? There never were any others._

Then a dark figure was crossing the choppy waters.

Curarpikt stared at the man in confusion. "How?" he asked, but the voice didn't sound like his own.

"How, what?" the man asked. He pressed a cold hand against Curarpikt's face. Why was his hand so cold?

"...water?"

"Right, hold on. You need to take these anyway. Your temperature's not dropping at all." The man held up a glass of water and pressed a pill against Curarpikt's lips. "Come on."

_No, not that kind of water._ He squinted, wondering if he was hallucinating. He felt nauseated, and everything still seemed to be moving. _We're on a boat._ "Are...we sinking?"

"Sinking?" The man leaned closer. His face was huge, completely covering Curarpikt's field of vision. He tried to slap it out of the way. "You're delirious." For whatever reason, the man smiled. Curarpikt didn't think there was anything humorous about the situation. He felt himself being lifted into a sitting position.

Big mistake.

Curarpikt made a sound in his throat and clapped both hands over his mouth.

"Shit, not here!" an alarmed voice said.

The next moment, he was leaning over the toilet bowl. He didn't understand how he'd gotten there so quickly. He didn't care.

Eventually, he discovered that his forehead was resting against the cold seat, and he was breathing hard. The world seemed to have stopped rocking, at least for the moment. A warm hand was rubbing his back. He sat up slowly and stared blearily at the man seated behind him. A familiar face.

"I know you," Curarpikt smiled weakly, relief washing over him. The fog lifted gradually from his mind.

The man gave him an odd look, then returned the smile. "Rinse out your mouth, and we'll get you back into bed."

Strong hands slid beneath his arms and lifted him to stand against the sink. Then, they lifted him and carried him to the bed before offering two pills and a glass of water. Curarpikt swallowed the fever reducers and lay back down.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better than a few moments ago. I'm thinking clearly now...I hope... " he said a little doubtfully. He closed his eyes as a cold towel was pressed against his forehead. "How did I end up in the bathroom?"

"...I carried you."

He couldn't recall that. _Add that to the list of things I can't remember_... Still, a recognizable face at his side counted for something. For a lot, actually. He sighed, grateful that the bed was still.

And that Quwrof sat beside it.

* * *

-----

"You mentioned nothing of vomiting," Quwrof hissed into the phone.

"You didn't ask," Syarnorke responded. "Besides, you kill with your bare hands. What's a little bit of vomit?"

"Then you come over here and take care of him!"

"Oh, gotta run, Dancho," Syarnorke laughed. "Make sure he gets plenty of fluids! And he should eat, once he's able."

"Syar..." The other hung up. Quwrof squeezed his phone, suppressing the urge to throw it from the balcony. He might just have to fight Matiy for the right to get even with Syarnorke first... Resolutely, he stepped back into the apartment. He could hear the bathroom sink running. He walked into the bedroom and stood in the bathroom doorway as Curarpikt rinsed out his mouth and spat into the sink. He turned the tap and straightened wearily. In the harsh fluorescent light, the boy looked deathly pale.

"Better?" Quwrof asked.

Curarpikt grimaced. "For now..." he mumbled. "But there isn't much in me to empty... I'm mostly just retching now."

Quwrof cringed. He actually felt sorry for the boy. Quwrof felt he'd almost rather take a sword in the gut than vomit repeatedly. At least this time, unlike the second time, the blond was able to make it on his own feet to the bathroom. The last time, Quwrof had risked using one of his stolen abilities, mostly because he had no desire to clean soiled sheets. Fortunately, the boy had been delirious at the time.

Curarpikt started to walk out of the bathroom but ended up leaning heavily against the counter as his knees buckled beneath him. "Woah, there," Quwrof said and hurriedly slid an arm under the boy's arms and another behind his knees. He lifted him to his chest and carried Curarpikt back to the bed. The boy felt lighter than yesterday, or was it his imagination? Curarpikt probably didn't weigh much more than Chzzck or Matiy. And his skin still felt too warm. He settled Curarpikt beneath the covers, then watched as the boy closed his eyes wearily.

_He looks so young and frail._ Quwrof wished that he could have seen the fight between him and Wbererguin. Morbid curiosity had him wondering how such a slight boy could have even considered fighting the strongest member of the Ryodan. He had his Chain Jail, but he would have still had to get the chain around the giant man. Even with Wbererguin unaware of the chain's ability and possibly careless of its attack, there had to have been some hand-to-hand combat between the two; Curarpikt couldn't have just walked up to the giant man and wrapped him in the chain. _This is one fearless kid..._

"I'm sorry," Curarpikt said without opening his eyes. "This can't be pleasant for you." He paused. "You really don't have to stay here, you know."

Quwrof gently slapped the boy on his chest. "Right, and leave you here alone? Don't be stupid. We've already been over this." It was tempting, really tempting to leave, but that would have defeated the purpose of having made the boy sick_._ "You just relax. I'll take care of you."

"...Thank you. You're a good friend." With those words, Curarpikt drifted off to sleep.

Quwrof stared at the boy's face. As he had so many times already since visiting the Nostrad's mansion, he wondered just what had prompted the boy to leave and be rid of his bad memories. The Kuruta incident was over five years ago. Why now? What finally made him unable to handle things? Or was it just that the opportunity had finally presented itself?

The tiny woman had mentioned nightmares, but he must have always had those. Perhaps they were worse after learning nen? Nen ability was strongly affected by emotions, feelings... It wouldn't be too far-fetched to think that the opposite could be true. And the Crimson Eyes? Syarnorke had filled him in on the memories Phalcnothdk had taken from the two boys, so Quwrof knew that Curarpikt's nen was affected by the Eyes, allowing him to function at full-capacity in all nen types. There was also the fact that Quwrof's Judgement Chain disappeared with Curarpikt's memory.

Maybe it was nothing more simple than the fact that the boy was not a killer. Senritsu did mention that Curarpikt was affected by the deaths he had caused. Although, technically, the boy hadn't actually killed either Wbererguin or Phalcnothdk – the Judgement Chain had, for the choices the two had made. So, he couldn't deal with the guilt of their deaths? Or, deaths by the Judgement Chain affected the nen-user as well?

Quwrof restrained the urge to clutch his head in frustration. There were no answers, not as long as the boy remembered nothing. And even if he did, he probably wouldn't be able to really explain his motives or the nightmares. Not that he would have any desire to explain anything to the leader of the Genei Ryodan...

_What do I care of his motives? We just need him to remember his past._

So that they could kill him. He imagined the boy's pretty face marred, eye sockets left empty, robbed of their rare orbs. Inexplicably, Quwrof shuddered. He reached up and brushed blond bangs aside before running a light finger over one closed eye. Crimson Eyes. An unexplained and nearly extinct phenomenon.

One Kuruta remaining in the whole world.

And the sleeping boy had no idea of just how rare he was...


	6. Chapter 6

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond.

This chapter has been edited and re-posted 2/28/09 due to a minor error…

Standard disclaimers apply...

* * *

**Hunt for the Intangible - Chapter 6**

The room was dark when he awakened. Curarpikt sat up cautiously, knocking the damp towel into his lap, and inhaled deeply. His head still hurt, but the nausea seemed to have passed. His mouth felt dry and his lips were parched. He shifted so that his legs were hanging from the side of the bed, bare toes sweeping the carpet. The slight movement made him feel light-headed again, but he dismissed it. As long as the nausea didn't return, it wasn't that bad.

He stood, dropped the towel into the bowl by the bed, and walked slowly across the floor and stepped into the main room. The clock above the oven glowed "12:13." He glanced at the sofa and was somewhat dismayed to find it empty. Curarpikt chastised himself immediately, reminding himself that Quwrof was a grown man who could take care of himself. He was probably just out enjoying the nightlife. The man _had_ spent most of the past day and a half by his side after all.

He went into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. After some thought, he decided to risk a piece of fruit as well. He carried both items to the sofa and sat down cross-legged.

The man had been staying with Curarpikt for nearly two weeks now. It was amazing how quickly one could get attached to someone. Curarpikt had become quite accustomed to finding Quwrof waiting for him when he returned from work. It was reassuring to have a constant in life, other than employment. And he enjoyed the conversations they had. He didn't remember conversations from before he lost his memory, but judging from the people he dealt with at the store, Quwrof was significantly above average in intelligence. The conversations he had with the man were much more satisfying than ones he had with others, especially since Quwrof seemed to have traveled a lot and could tell him of many different places.

Curarpikt wondered why the man continued to stay with him, even while he was ill and a dreadful host. Quwrof must certainly have better things to do than take care of a sick teenager. The man was a bachelor, but he must have a life that he needed to return to. Had Curarpikt been the suspicious sort, he would have some serious questions about a man who would stick around with someone he'd known only casually once before. As it were, he did wonder...

He looked up as he heard a key being inserted into the door. A moment later, Quwrof entered, looking surprised to see Curarpikt out of bed.

"You're up," he said, stating the obvious. "How are you feeling?" He walked to the sofa and sat beside the boy.

"I haven't lost the fruit I ate, so that's a good sign," Curarpikt grinned.

"How long have you been up?"

"About ten, fifteen minutes." He allowed the man to place a cool hand on his forehead.

"You still have a fever. Back to bed," Quwrof ordered. Curarpikt raised an eyebrow but stood without arguing as he was still feeling tired.

Quwrof followed him into the bedroom and stood by the bed as Curarpikt pulled the sheets up to his chest. "Honestly, now. How do you feel?"

"... Still have a headache. And movement still makes me feel lightheaded," the boy admitted.

"Right," Quwrof nodded. "You weren't planning on going back to work tomorrow, were you?"

"Uh..." Curarpikt grinned sheepishly. The thought had crossed his mind, especially with the book signing coming up on Friday.

The man let out an exaggerated sigh. "You're not leaving this apartment until you're able to consume and keep down a proper meal."

"That's..." the boy opened his mouth to argue.

"I'll chain you to the bed if I have to," Quwrof said over his shoulder as he left the room with the bowl. Then he laughed, apparently finding the statement to be amusing.

Curarpikt waited silently, listening to the sound of ice cubes clinking against the bowl. Quwrof returned with the bowl moments later.

"I suppose you get to determine what constitutes 'a proper meal,'" Curarpikt muttered as the man knelt by the bed.

Quwrof flashed a toothy grin. "But of course." He started to place the cold towel on Curarpikt's forehead, but paused as the boy turned his face towards him.

"Why are you here?" he asked, expression serious. Now that his headache didn't worsen at any attempt to think or speak, Curarpikt wanted to ask the question that had occurred to him even throughout the hazy moments of high fever and vomiting.

The dark-haired man blinked. "...Do you want me to leave?"

"No, of course not! I'm just really curious about why you would stay here with me, especially the past two days..."

"I want to help."

"I mean it, Quwrof! Why?"

The man appeared to be thinking. "...You're a good kid. I like spending time with you. I have nothing pressing to do nor have anywhere I need to be right now..." he trailed off. He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. This is where I want to be for now." A grin crept onto his face. "Besides, I'm guessing that you'd be terrible at taking care of yourself."

Curarpikt continued to stare at the man, not completely satisfied with the answer. _Maybe I _am_ the suspicious sort..._

"You don't trust my intentions?"

"No, it's not that!" He simply didn't understand them... especially since Quwrof was obviously wealthy, yet continued to sleep on a fold-out bed in Curarpikt's apartment.

"You don't trust _me_?"

"I trust you," Curarpikt said firmly. And that was the truth.

"Well, then," Quwrof said, business-like, and placed the towel on the boy's forehead. Curarpikt waited for the end of the sentence, but there didn't seem to be one. He sighed.

"Did you enjoy Sonisco's nightlife? I'd imagine things are just getting exciting."

Quwrof didn't respond immediately. "Yeah, I went to a club for a couple of hours."

"You dance?" Curarpikt asked, somewhat surprised. He couldn't quite imagine that.

The man snorted. "No. I hang out at the bar." He paused. "You hear some interesting stories when people are drinking."

The blond made a sound in his throat. "I can imagine."

Quwrof inclined his head. "You've never gone out except to walk since I've been here," he pointed out.

Curarpikt snorted, "Do I seem the type to drink and party?"

The man shook his head, smiling. "No, of course not."

"For that matter," the boy continued, his expression darkening minutely, "I don't even know if I'm of legal age."

Quwrof scrutinized him for several moments. "Hard to say. Legal age here is eighteen, apparently. You don't look much older than... sixteen? But you definitely don't act sixteen."

Curarpikt made a face. "Do I look that young?" But when he'd first seen his reflection after arriving in Sonisco, he, too, had been somewhat surprised that he hadn't looked older. He'd certainly felt older, but when the bookstore manager commented about his apparent youth, Curarpikt had made it a point to find a mirror and get a good look at himself, since up to that point, he'd only caught a ghosted glimpse of himself in windows. He'd been somewhat dismayed by his appearance, as he most definitely hadn't expected to look so young and so... delicate...

His lack of age had also made him wonder all the more what he could have possibly done or been through to want to be rid of his memories...

"Age is irrelevant," Quwrof smiled. "What matters is ability, which you've plenty of." Then he grinned wickedly. "Well, except the ability to take proper care of yourself."

"I..." Curarpikt opened his mouth to protest.

"Oh, come on, did you see yourself when that guy brought you home? You shouldn't have even gone in to work that morning if you felt that ill."

The boy smiled weakly. "I felt better in the morning..."

The man gave the boy a knowing look. "Really? Well, then, I bet you had to be talked into leaving work early."

"... Uh, well..." Curarpikt looked abashed.

Quwrof laughed. "Right. See? So, you need me to take care of you, and I'm telling you to get some sleep. Come, now, you said that you trust me."

Curarpikt sighed, defeated. How did a conversation about the Sonisco nightlife turn into a lecture about him neglecting his health? He had the feeling that he'd somehow been manipulated... But, the man meant well and seemed to only want to help Curarpikt recover.

"Okay, but if I have a 'proper' breakfast tomorrow, you're letting me go back to work."

"We'll see about that," the man grinned, standing. He patted the damp cloth on Curarpikt's forehead meaningfully.

"...! You said..."

Quwrof laughed once more and crossed the room. "Good night," he said and hit the light switch.

Curarpikt had no choice but to close his eyes. His mutinous thoughts faded away quickly, though, as sleep overtook him.

* * *

-----

They almost got in an argument the following morning when Quwrof woke to find Curarpikt standing in front of the closet. Any argument he'd planned on using died on Curarpikt's lips, though, when he was unable to stop Quwrof from dumping him unceremoniously on the bed. The man simply stooped, flung the boy over his shoulder, and carried him like a sack.

"You are not going to work today," the man stated firmly, looking down at Curarpikt.

The blond nodded reluctantly. Just being carried over the man's shoulder had left him dizzy and out of breath. He didn't have a choice.

He was, however, given the choice later to get out of bed as long as he promised to remain inactive. So he spent the morning curled up on the sofa, wrapped in blankets, reading quietly. He didn't particularly mind the restriction placed on him, since it was raining again and he enjoyed listening to the sound. Quwrof, meanwhile, went out for a few hours after making Curarpikt swear that he wouldn't even think about leaving the apartment.

This gave the boy more time to think about the man. Last night's conversation hadn't been too enlightening, so he still didn't understand why Quwrof was staying and helping him. He wanted to berate himself for even wondering about the man's intentions, but he couldn't help it. What could Quwrof possibly get out of putting off his own obligations and spending time with an amnesiac? And even assuming that Curarpikt wasn't as young as he looked, he guessed that there were at least seven or eight years between them in age, since Quwrof once mentioned that he was twenty-six years old. So a man in his mid-twenties was choosing to spend time with someone not even out of his teens. Then there was the fact that he was wealthy. Either Quwrof was the most generous sucker for a sob story, or there was a piece missing to the puzzle.

_Other than my memory, that is,_ Curarpikt thought wryly.

He set aside the book and leaned his head back, rubbing between his eyebrows. If his headache didn't go away, work would be difficult, since he was determined to go tomorrow even if he had to fight Quwrof over the decision. He closed his eyes. A moment later, he opened them and stared hard at the ceiling.

He hadn't been thinking clearly at the time, but something still bothered him about two nights ago. He would swear that he'd felt the sensation of... Curarpikt frowned. He didn't know how to describe it. But it hadn't been related to his nausea or dizziness. He had been sitting up in bed, and the next moment, he was in the bathroom. And between those two moments, there had been that weird sensation...

Curarpikt shifted so that he was lying on the sofa. He curled into a tight ball, then stretched his whole body before settling into a more comfortable position.

It had to have been his imagination. That, and his delirium. He couldn't make sense of it any other way.

But he couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

* * *

-----

Quwrof returned around noon to find Curarpikt asleep on the sofa. The boy was curled on his side, his right forearm cushioning his head, and his left arm hugging a pillow to his chest. Quwrof couldn't help but smile at the impractical use of the pillow. It made the boy look even younger, and innocent, even. He sat on one end of the sofa with a book and decided to wait for the boy to awaken on his own.

Even though he'd been with them last night, he had been meeting with the Ryodan members again, minus Matiy who was stuck working at the cafe. The young woman had been less than pleased at having to spend time at the cafe when the target she was supposed to be observing wasn't even there. The rest of the members, meanwhile, seemed to be occupying themselves reasonably well while in Sonisco. Chzzck was content as long as she had a book, much like Curarpikt. Syarnorke explored the city, and was in general, enjoying the subtleties of the current mission. Perhaps a little too much... Nobunaga continued to loudly remind his leader that he would be the one to kill the Chain Guy. Phynkss and Heytun, while still occasionally grumbling, were spending their time acquiring goods. And when feeling particularly bloodthirsty, they popped into the Greed Island game for a kill or two before returning to reality.

Phynkss had mentioned that they'd learned that Curarpikt's young friends were in the game as well. Quwrof hoped they'd remain there for awhile, because things would just become more complicated if the boys returned and thought to get in touch with Curarpikt. Fortunately, he'd gotten the impression, from what the others told him of Phalcnothdk's memories, that the friends hadn't been in the habit of regular contact.

***

Curarpikt shifted slightly, one bare foot peeking out from beneath the blankets and kicking Quwrof's leg. The man regarded the boy. Curarpikt was completely relaxed in sleep, oblivious to Quwrof's presence. But what if...? The man experimentally expanded his aura, going from a state of ten to ren. The boy twitched, then opened his eyes abruptly. Quwrof immediately returned to ten. Curarpikt sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes.

"Quwrof?" He looked around the room warily.

"What's wrong?" the man asked casually.

Curarpikt looked at Quwrof and blinked a few times. "I... Something woke me . I'm not certain what." He scanned the room once more.

"Maybe my movement woke you," suggested Quwrof.

The boy drew his brows together. "...Maybe."

Quwrof stood. "Do you feel like lunch, or do you want to go back to sleep?"

Curarpikt rolled his head, loosening stiff neck muscles. "Actually, I hadn't meant to fall sleep." He tilted his head, considering. "And I think I might have an appetite."

The man smiled. "That's good. Just give me a few minutes."

They were gathered on a rooftop high above the city streets. The sun was just about to set, touching the horizon and sending out beams of red, violet, and orange. The tallest figure kicked at a nail that had come loose from something.

"How much longer are we going to be here?" he complained. "That kid's never going to remember anything. Why don't we just kill him?"

"Phynkss, we've been here just over a week," Syarnorke said. "Show some patience."

"Yeah, but Dancho's been with the Chain Guy for two!" Phynkss gave the nail a particularly strong kick, sending it flying to the other end of the roof. "I can't believe he hasn't killed him yet! How can he pretend to be buddy-buddy with that kid?"

"Dancho has a lot of patience," Matiy said. "Besides, he's not all that bad. He knows an amazing amount of stuff. Dancho probably finds him interesting."

"I just don't get it," Phynkss muttered.

"That's because you only have Phalc's memory of Curarpikt."

The tall man stared at Matiy in disbelief. "Now _you're_ referring to him by name?"

The young woman hesitated. Then she shrugged indifferently. "Maybe you should meet him face-to-face, too. He's really not what you'd expect."

Chzzck set aside the book she'd been engrossed in. The one from the Chain Guy, incidentally. "Maybe Dancho wants him to join us after all."

"Don't be stupid," barked Heytun. "The Chain Guy join us?"

"Well, technically, didn't he earn the right to the number eleven position when he killed Wberer?" the young woman asked innocently.

Nobunaga glared at Chzzck and muttered something very foul under his breath. Chzzck glanced at the man, shrugged, and returned to her book.

"Anyway," Syarnorke said loudly, stretching out the word, "all we can do is await orders. Besides, being here isn't all that bad. Some of us seem to be making good use of the time..." he said, looking meaningfully at Heytun and Phynkss. Syarnorke had stopped by their temporary hideout earlier in the day and found a few valuable items stashed away.

Phynkss shrugged. "Hey, Dancho said only that we shouldn't draw unnecessary attention to ourselves and should refrain from killing if possible. He said nothing about not stealing."

Syarnorke waved off the excuse. "I don't care if you steal. Just so long as no one begins suspecting that we're here. Got it?" The members nodded. Abruptly, he turned towards Matiy. "Say, didn't the Chain Guy return to work today? How was he?"

"Looked like hell, quite frankly. He should have stayed home another day," Matiy said. "He's lost weight," she added. "Your drug did a real number on him, Syar."

Phynkss chuckled, elbowing Syarnorke. "I'd bet. Poor Dancho. You know he's going to get you for this later, I mean, making him put up with the Chain Guy puking." Heytun snickered at his side.

"If it gets the job done, he can't complain," Syarnorke responded, unconcerned. "Dancho did mention that the Chain Guy is definitely showing an attachment to him. So, things are going as planned."

* * *

-----

Syarnorke earned another glare from Matiy the next day as he stepped into the store. He just smiled at her and scanned the store. The Chain Guy was behind the counter, talking with one of the salespeople. Syarnorke caught the blond's eye, who smiled and nodded in acknowledgement. A few minutes later, the boy approached the young man.

"Syarnorke, I'm glad to see you. I'd wanted a chance to thank you properly."

"You look better," Syarnorke commented, although Matiy was right. The boy had lost weight. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." ***

"That's him."

Heytun nodded, then glanced at Phynkss. "Tell me again why we're here."

"Plain old curiosity," the tall man responded, eyes still on the seated figure. The fact that neither Chzzck nor Matiy seemed particularly interested in having the Chain Guy killed, and the fact that Phalcnothdk had trusted the boy to abide by their agreement, had Phynkss curious about the boy. And Quwrof actually seemed more relaxed than he had in years...

"We should just kill him," muttered Heytun.

Phynkss made a sound in his throat and shrugged.

"Can we at least scare him?" asked the short man.

"I just want to see what he's like," Phynkss said, shaking his head.

"That doesn't mean we can't scare him."

Phynkss sighed and pulled a coin out of his pocket. Heytun nodded as the tall man flipped the coin into the air.

"Heads," the dark-haired man said.

Phynkss slapped the coin against the back of a forearm and covered it with a hand. "Tails," he said. He slowly pulled back his hand and revealed the coin.

"Damn," Heytun said resignedly, adding a muttered, "I have the worst luck with that." He followed as Phynkss pocketed the coin and started walking down the narrow beach.

The Chain Guy was staring out across the water, forearms resting on his knees. There was enough light coming from the moon, the street lamps, and the homes that they could see puffs of white air being exhaled from the boy's lips. The blond turned his head towards the men as they approached. Hazel eyes regarded them calmly. Even in the limited light, it was obvious that the boy had been ill recently.

"Hi."

Phynkss blinked in surprise, not having expected a smile. "Hi." Heytun remained silent.

The boy looked towards the water again. Heytun gave Phynkss a look that clearly said, _Now what do we do?_

The tall man scratched the back of his head and grimaced. He hadn't really thought it through. He'd just wanted to see for himself what Matiy had meant.

"What's a pretty kid doing alone on a beach on a Friday night?" he asked. He could sense Heytun both cringe and stifle a laugh at the words.

The boy narrowed his eyes slightly before slowly looking at Phynkss. "I come here almost every evening. What does the day have to do with anything?" he asked, puzzled.

Phynkss inclined his head in surprise. "Don't you want to be out partying like most kids do on Friday?"

"Partying?" the boy's tone answered Phynkss' question. "Whatever for?"

Heytun chuckled behind the high-collared coat. The blond's eyes moved briefly to the short man before settling on Phynkss once more.

"_You're _both on a beach on a Friday night," the Chain Guy pointed out, one eyebrow raised slightly.

Phynkss laughed. "Yeah, but the night is still young for us. There's still plenty of time for drink and entertainment." _Entertainment..._ The man was suddenly struck with the urge to tease the serious boy. He reached forward and fingered a strand of the blond's hair, his knuckles grazing the boy's jaw. "Do you want to join us for a drink or two?"

The Chain Guy tensed and leaned away, an earring flashing in the light as he did so. "No, thank you," he said firmly.

"Oh, come on, we'll have a good time." Phynkss could hear his short companion snicker as he reached for the boy's face.

The blond stood quickly and stepped back. "If you're inviting me because you think I'm a girl, I have to correct that assumption."

Phynkss' grin widened. "Are you sure?" he asked. "You're pretty enough to be one. I want some proof." He closed the distance between them in one step and placed his hands on the boy's waist.

In retrospect, he should have been expecting it, but he'd been too relaxed, assuming that lost memory meant lost ability. Plus, the boy still didn't look entirely healthy.

Phynkss found himself lying on his back on the sand, a painful throbbing apparent in his jaw. _He's fast!_ The boy was also remarkably strong for one so slight and still recovering from illness. He stared at the blond in amazement.

The Chain Guy looked just as shocked. The boy stared at his clenched fist with wide eyes. "I... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to do that..."

Heytun was behind him in the blink of an eye. He twisted the blond's arms behind his back, causing him to gasp in pain.

"No, Heytun, don't," Phynkss ordered. He stood and shook sand off of his pants. "Let him go."

The short man remained still for several moments, then released the Chain Guy's wrists. The boy jumped back quickly and eyed Heytun warily.

"You've got quite a punch," Phynkss commented, rubbing his jaw. "Where'd you learn to throw a punch like that?"

The boy had unconsciously adopted a fighting stance. He remained silent.

The tall man stepped closer to the blond, grinning once more. "I wonder, then, what you'd do if I..." His arm moved swiftly towards the Chain Guy, fist aimed for the boy's face.

His face seemed to disappear in a flash. Phynkss blinked, then took a kick in the jaw as the boy flipped backwards onto his hands to avoid the punch. The Chain Guy landed easily several yards away, back in a fighting stance. There was still shock in his eyes.

Phynkss began to laugh, further unnerving the boy. "Oh, this is good." The man sounded both pleased and impressed. Heytun raised an eyebrow at him. The tall man touched his jaw, then continued laughing. "Come on, Heytun, let's go. I need a drink."

The Chain Guy continued to stare at him.

"Relax, we're leaving." Phynkss turned to leave. "We'll see you around." He laughed harder at the boy's dismayed expression.

He could still feel the boy's eyes on his back as they made their way down the beach. Heytun elbowed him once they were out of hearing range. "What is so funny?"

"That poor kid. Did you see the look on his face? He was more surprised than I was that he punched me. He's going to be torturing himself over his past even more, now that he knows he can fight."

Heytun's eyes widened, and he grinned in understanding.

"Maybe we should pay him a visit another evening and see what else he can do without nen," Phynkss added.

Heytun nodded, still smiling. "We might not need Greed Island for entertainment now."

* * *

-----

Quwrof turned as Curarpikt closed the door behind himself.

"Perfect timing," he said. "I just made some coffee..." He paused. "What's wrong?"

The boy looked pale and had a haunted look in his eyes. He walked mechanically to the sofa and sat without removing his coat. Quwrof grabbed the mugs of coffee and quickly joined him. He placed a mug in Curarpikt's hands, wrapping the boy's fingers around it.

"Drink," he ordered.

Curarpikt blinked several times, as if he'd just now noticed the man. He then took a quick sip and set the mug on the table.

"Okay, what happened?"

The blond stared at his right hand. "I punched someone."

"... Just now? This evening?"

"I sent him flying. I kicked him, too." The boy looked up, staring at Quwrof with wide eyes. "Apparently, I'm no newcomer to fighting." Curarpikt was agitated, disturbed.

"Did you hurt him badly?" Quwrof inquired, guessing that was one cause of Curarpikt's agitation.

The boy looked abruptly puzzled. "No... He looked fine, even though I got him in the jaw both times. But I know they were both forceful contacts."

The man was immediately suspicious. "Tell me what happened."

"There were two of them, but I only talked with the one. A tall man with... I don't think he had eyebrows..."

_Phynkss._ And the one with him would have been Heytun, as they tended to do most things together. "Did they attack you?"

"Not exactly..." Curarpikt admitted. "I think the tall one was trying to hit on me. It felt threatening, though."

Quwrof almost smiled. "So you did the right thing in hitting him, then. No problems, right?"

The blond shook his head vigorously. "No, that's not what I'm upset about!"

The man sighed. "Curarpikt, stop worrying. You should have figured out by now that you're not an evil person."

"But there's no guarantee of that. Quwrof, my body reacted even before I knew what I was doing! You don't react like that without having experienced a lot of fighting!"

"Maybe you've just had to defend yourself from a lot of 'over-enthusiastic' men?"

"... It's not funny, Quwrof."

"You're right. Sorry." The man regarded the boy for a long moment. "Would it make you feel better if I told you that I can fight as well?"

Curarpikt's eyes widened. "You? Why?"

"Well, I often travel with expensive items. Doesn't it make more sense to defend them myself instead of relying on security?"

The boy stared for several seconds before nodding very slowly.

"So there must be an equally logical reason why you know how to fight, right?"

"But...!" His hands clenched into tight fists. "I can't remember the reason... What if I've hurt innocent people? Or worse?"

Quwrof couldn't relate to the boy's turmoil. It had never occurred to him to feel anything about fighting or killing, other than the occasional excitement or satisfaction. He wondered exactly what the boy had felt at the moment of Wbererguin's death. Or if he'd even known that Phalcnothdk had died. "Everyone has to die sometime," Quwrof pointed out.

Curarpikt's eyes widened.

Abruptly, the mug on the table split loudly, sending coffee spilling across the wooden surface and onto the floor.


	7. Chapter 7

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond. Basically, analternate realityfic.

Standard disclaimers apply...

* * *

**Hunt for the Intangible – Chapter 7**

Curarpikt sat frozen, staring at the broken mug and spilled coffee. Quwrof watched the boy for several seconds before letting out a long sigh. The blond's head whipped around as the man stood and stepped into the kitchen. He returned with a washcloth and wiped the table and what he could of the carpeting.

Finally, Curarpikt asked slowly, "What just happened?"

"...You broke the mug. The coffee spilled." Quwrof sat on the sofa once more and angled himself so that he was facing the boy.

"...I... What?" Curarpikt looked tense, his fingers clutching the sofa cushion. "I didn't touch anything! Why are you sitting there so calmly?"

"Because there's nothing to panic about. You should be pleased, actually," the man said, one corner of his mouth twitching upward. "You've just learned something about yourself."

The blond blinked in surprise.

"You're a nen-user, Curarpikt."

"A what?"

Quwrof sighed. He'd never expected to have to explain nen to the Chain Guy. He launched into an explanation of nen in general, telling the boy about ten, zetsu, ren, and hatsu, then went over the specifics of the six hatsu abilities: strengthening, emitting, controlling, changing, materializing, and specialized. He told the boy of the secrecy of nen's existence and of the severe training necessary in order to master its use. And he explained how nen ability was highly personal.

"You've already been through training, obviously, since you just used hatsu to break the mug."

The boy had remained silent throughout the impromptu lesson on nen. He was significantly paler now than several minutes ago. "Why?" he asked quietly. "What reason could I possibly have had for needing to learn to use nen?"

Quwrof didn't respond, knowing the question to be a rhetorical one.

Curarpikt stared at the man. "And if this is such a secret, why do you know all of this?"

He'd been expecting that question. "Because I'm a nen-user as well."

The boy could only stare at him in silence.

* * *

Quwrof closed the door behind him and looked down at the Ryodan members. "Well, Curarpikt came home upset yesterday evening and broke a mug."

"I didn't think he had a temper," commented Syarnorke.

"He used hatsu."

That got the members' full attention.

"Perhaps some of you know what might have upset Curarpikt?"

Syarnorke and Matiy immediately turned on Nobunaga. The man raised his arms palm outward and protested, "Hey, don't look at me! I was drinking with you, Syar, remember? I was nowhere near the Chain Guy!"

The three turned to look in the direction of the leader's gaze. He was staring at Phynkss and Heytun.

"Hey, we didn't do anything to him. _He_ punched _me,_" Phynkss said.

Nobunaga made a sound that was a cross between a cough and a laugh. "That kid was able to punch you?"

"I wasn't expecting it," muttered Phynkss.

"Most people aren't going to warn you before they attack, you idiot," Nobunaga snorted.

Phynkss took a step towards Nobunaga. "And who was it that was outsmarted by two brats?" Nobunaga snarled and responded in kind. His aura flared around him, and Phynkss responded to the challenge.

Quwrof stepped between the two men impatiently. "Can we get back on topic?" He raised an eyebrow at Phynkss and Heytun. "Well?"

"We just wanted to see what he was like."

Matiy looked slightly guilty at the man's words.

Heytun threw an annoyed look at the tall man. "Speak for yourself. It wasn't my idea."

The leader sighed. "I really don't care. But now I have another aspect to consider. So the next time you have an idea like this, do me a favor, and don't act on it."

"Yes, Dancho."

"Dancho?" Chzzck spoke up. "Does this mean you're going to have him join us after all?"

Nobunaga rounded on the young woman. "Dammit, will you just let that idea go, Chzzck?"

"Nobunaga." Quwrof found his patience wearing thin. The Ryodan members could be so inflexible and single-minded at times... Nobunaga frowned but didn't argue.

"Dancho? What happened after he broke the mug?" asked Syarnorke.

"I gave him a lesson on nen."

"And?"

The leader sat on the floor, completing the loose circle of Ryodan members. "I told him I use nen as well. That was it. He went to bed, more or less in shock."

Information overload. In one evening, the boy learned of the existence of nen and that he was a nen-user and a capable fighter. Quwrof wasn't surprised that Curarpikt was in shock. The boy had proof now that he had reason to be afraid of his past.

"Where is the Chain Guy now?" Phynkss asked.

"On a very long walk. He wanted time to clear his head."

Which gave Quwrof time to adjust his plans. There was no doubt that Curarpikt could be a great asset to the Genei Ryodan. Quwrof could train him in nen and slowly try to warm him to the idea of the Ryodan's activities and lifestyle. But would the boy be able to develop the same abilities without the same motivation? Curarpikt's nen abilities had been strongly linked to his desire to avenge the Kuruta tribe. There was the chance that the boy's powers would lack potency without that desire.

And there was still the fact that the boy felt strongly against criminal activity and murder.

Syarnorke gave Quwrof a shrewd look. "You're considering training him."

"...Yes, I am."

"Dancho!" Nobunaga got up on one knee. "He would never join us!"

"That's what I said about those two boys, but that didn't stop you from thinking you could convince them," Matiy pointed out.

"He's the reason Wberer and Phalc are dead!"

"Nobunaga, you didn't react this way when Hyskoa joined the Ryodan. Why do you feel so threatened by Curarpikt?" asked Matiy.

"Maybe because both you and Quwrof are referring to him by name! Admit it, you guys are warming up to him!"

Matiy was instantly indignant. "I am not warming up to him. I'm simply being open-minded about him."

Nobunaga faced the leader. "And what about you, Dancho?"

Quwrof pressed a loose fist against his lips contemplatively. "Honestly," he began slowly and deliberately, "I'm torn between killing him and using him. He would be a great asset if he could be convinced to join, and we were able to keep him from ever regaining his memory." He smiled at the others. "And in a way, it would be the best revenge, turning him into what he hates the most."

Syarnorke chuckled softly.

"What if he remembers, though?" Nobunaga asked stubbornly, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"By then, he might have participated in a Ryodan activity or two. So try considering it from his point of view."

Nobunaga stood silently for a moment. Then, a slow, wicked grin appeared on his face. He erupted in loud, raucous laughter.

"Dancho, do you really think you can convince him to become one of us?" Matiy asked.

"I don't know. I'll need to do some thinking about that," admitted the leader. "It is highly unlikely. But that would make it all the more challenging." And he did love a good challenge...

Phynkss leaned forward slightly. "Dancho, while you're scheming, then, can I try something? And if it works and he regains his memory, can we kill him?"

Quwrof looked at the tall man. "What do you have in mind?"

* * *

Over an hour of walking, and Curarpikt still didn't feel any better. But he did reach one conclusion. Worrying about what had been would get him nowhere since he simply couldn't remember anything. So the question was, what would he do with this new knowledge? Or more accurately, re-learned knowledge.

He had been a nen-user. He'd had the ability to manipulate aura, and he could still do so. For whatever reason, he had trained to master the use of nen...

And his body still remembered the training, even if his mind didn't. Curarpikt felt like banging his head against a wall to try and dislodge something, anything, from his mind that would give him a lead. He sighed heavily and sat on the steps of a building. He made a fist with his right hand and stared at it.

It had come so naturally to him last night. Before he'd even had a chance to register it, he was standing with fist clenched, and the man was lying on the sand yards away. Curarpikt had no idea that he had that kind of strength or ability within him.

And he'd certainly had no idea that he could manipulate aura, since he hadn't even known... remembered... that such an ability existed. He still wasn't certain how he had broken that mug. He had been angry at Quwrof's words, and for a brief moment, the emotion had triggered something. He'd felt a flash of energy, of power, almost like a low heat surrounding him, then the mug had cracked loudly, startling him.

Without intending to, he had broken something.

Not exactly a good thing...

Well, he wasn't entirely happy with it, but there seemed to be only one course of action to take. With a sigh, Curarpikt stood and began the walk back to the apartment.

* * *

"Here, I thought this might cheer you up a little." Quwrof handed Curarpikt a paper bag.

The boy read the markings on the bag, then looked up at the man questioningly. He opened the bag and extracted a large hardcover book. It was a guidebook for the Aigien art exhibit.

"I stopped by the museum store. We can study it before we see the exhibit," Quwrof smiled, "Assuming that you still feel like going."

The boy looked a little awed. "No, I still want to go," he said. "Thank you," he breathed, opening the book and scanning several of the photographs.

Quwrof watched silently. Eventually, he asked quietly, "Did your walk help?"

Curarpikt hesitated, then closed the book. He leaned forward and set it on the low table. He then stared at Quwrof, hands clasped in front of him in his lap. The man returned the gaze.

"The other night," Curarpikt began, "that was you, wasn't it? You did something."

Quwrof had to think for a moment. "When you were ill?"

The boy nodded.

The man sighed, then nodded as well. Even in delirium, the boy had noted that something was awry.

"You can transfer people instantaneously between two points." Curarpikt inclined his head. "So that would make you a specialized nen-user?"

"That's right," Quwrof responded. As could be expected, Curarpikt was a quick study.

"How do I learn what I am?"

"You'd need to conduct ren on a glass of water. The result will tell you what you are."

The blond sat silently for a long moment.

"Would you train me?" he finally asked.

Quwrof hadn't been expecting that. "...Are you certain you want to be?"

"No, I'm not certain," Curarpikt sighed. "But if I could break a mug without intending to, then who knows what else I could end up doing accidentally? Untrained nen ability sounds too dangerous. I'd feel safer knowing I could control myself."

The man grinned wryly. How like the boy to come to such a decision.

"That is, if you're willing to train me," Curarpikt added.

Quwrof regarded the boy with mixed feelings. If the boy wanted to be trained by him, things might be much easier in the long run. With careful manipulation, Quwrof might be able to create the ideal Ryodan member, and by the time he asked Curarpikt to join, he could have the boy in so deep that he couldn't refuse. But Curarpikt was as intelligent as Syarnorke or Quwrof himself, and he had his own share of Nobunaga's and Phynkss' inflexibility. And Quwrof still hadn't finished exploring all possible outcomes since meeting with the Ryodan earlier.

He thought back to Neon's prediction. He had made his way east, assuming that the one he would find was the curse-remover.

Both the Nostrad mansion and Sonisco City were east of Yorkshin...

"I'll train you," Quwrof said, hoping fervently that he'd made the right choice. "But keep in mind that I'm not a nen master."

"That's fine. Thank you."

* * *

Curarpikt wasn't the type to let a skirmish on the beach scare him from taking walks. Which worked out well for Quwrof.

"I'd like to join you, if you don't mind," Quwrof said as the boy retrieved his coat.

Curarpikt blinked, a little surprised since the man hadn't walked with him since the one time in the beginning. He narrowed his eyes slightly. "You aren't asking to join me because you think I need protecting from unwanted advances, are you?"

The man chuckled. "Maybe. Maybe not. I might be a little curious about a man who can take so much impact to the jaw and walk away unharmed."

The blond's eyes widened slightly. "You think that he might be a nen-user."

Quwrof smiled and nodded.

"They probably won't be back," Curarpikt commented hopefully.

The man shrugged. "Then we'll just have a nice stroll together."

The temperature had dropped significantly over the past few days, and the air felt like it could snow any day now. The sky was already dark when they stepped out onto the street. The winter solstice was just days away.

They had spent the afternoon training and discussing aspects of nen, but Curarpikt refrained from mentioning nen as they walked towards the beach. Quwrof had made it clear that while all humans possessed aura, those who could manipulate it were uncommon. The majority of the population spent their lives unaware of its existence and of the existence of humans with uncommon abilities. Instead, they talked about the exhibit they would be seeing tomorrow.

As expected, the beach was deserted. They sat in the sand in Curarpikt's usual spot. The surf sounded especially loud in the cold air. Quwrof leaned back on his hands and waited.

He didn't have long to wait.

He could sense Phynkss's and Heytun's aura coming down the beach. He sat straighter and looked in their direction, even as Curarpikt tensed and turned as well.

"That's them, from last night," the boy said. He didn't sound frightened or upset, just miffed.

"Hmm," Quwrof responded.

They didn't take their eyes off of the two approaching men. Soon, Phynkss and Heytun were standing right above them.

"Well, well, if it isn't Pretty Boy again. You really do come here regularly, huh?" Phynkss let his eyes roam over Quwrof. "You brought a bodyguard tonight, I see."

Heytun laughed nastily.

"What do you want?" Curarpikt's tone was cold, much as it had been back in Yorkshin.

"Just to have you join us for a drink. Nothing more," Phynkss leered. Quwrof fought the urge to laugh. It was no wonder that Curarpikt had felt threatened the previous night.

"I think I made it clear last night that I'm not interested."

Phynkss reached for the boy's wrist. "Oh, don't be that way."

Quwrof took the opportunity to grab the man's forearm "He says that he's not interested. Why don't you two _gentlemen_ leave?"

Curarpikt turned quickly as Phynkss pulled his arm out of Quwrof's grasp and swung at him with his other arm. Quwrof blocked the blow with his forearm and rolled backwards into a crouch.

"Quwrof, don't..."

The man cut Curarpikt off, saying, "This is my fight now."

Phynkss grinned and shifted into a loose fighting stance. "Okay. If I win, the boy comes with us."

Curarpikt stood, indignation on his face. "I don't think..."

"Stay out of this!" both men said in unison.

Heytun, who'd been standing to the side with a smug grin on his face, moved behind Curarpikt and pinned his arms behind his back before the boy could react. "Relax. We get to watch."

Almost at the same moment, Quwrof said with a grin, "Relax. I could use some exercise."

He was actually pleased at the chance to fight, after having been inactive for so long. He smiled as Phynkss appeared immediately in front of him, fist cocked to punch him in the face. He was certain Phynkss was enjoying this opportunity as well, since Quwrof had never really sparred with him.

Quwrof ducked and swung out with his leg simultaneously, knocking the taller man's legs out from beneath him. Phynkss caught himself with his hands, though, and pushed off backwards, landing upright yards away. Then he was back, trying again to land a punch. Quwrof was faster than Phynkss, though, so he had to slow himself down and allow the man to make the occasional hit.

"This is ridiculous!" Curarpikt yelled, arms still held behind his back. "You're both acting like territorial animals!"

The men ignored him and continued their fight. Phynkss flew backwards through the air and landed flat on his back after an uppercut contacted him fully. He stood and spat blood on the sand, then grinned, his eyes flashing.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that one..."

He was beside Quwrof in an instant and swinging his arm full-force. His elbow slammed against the back of the shorter man's neck and dropped him forward onto his hands and knees. Then he brought his foot down and smashed Quwrof onto the sand, limbs sprawled outward.

Phynkss gave his leader's face a quick glance in warning, and the man responded by quirking one corner of his mouth upward. Phynkss took two steps back and swung his right leg backward, clearly aiming for Quwrof's face. His leg flew towards its target.

And contacted Curarpikt instead.

The boy had broken free of Heytun as soon as he guessed Phynkss's intention. In a flash, he was crouched between Phynkss and Quwrof, trying to protect the latter from a fatal blow that would cave his face in. He shoved Quwrof slightly even as Phynkss foot slammed against his left side.

Phynkss's smile widened as he heard the satisfying sound of cracking bone. His leg finished its forward path, catapulting the boy into the air. Phynkss laughed as Curarpikt slammed against a cliff wall with a sickening sound. A grunt escaped the blond as the wind was knocked out of him, then he slid down the cliff to land heavily on the sand in a crumpled pile.

No one moved for several seconds. Then, once he was certain that Curarpikt would not get up, Quwrof stood, slapping sand off of his clothing and face. He walked to the boy without looking at the Ryodan members.

Quwrof knelt by the boy and ran his hands over the limp body. A few cracked ribs, but he couldn't sense any internal injuries. Most likely a concussion as well. A thin trail of blood had trickled out of the corner of the boy's mouth. Quwrof looked at Phynkss disapprovingly.

The man shrugged. "Guess I got a little carried away."

Heytun snickered. "Right. You didn't mean to hurt him at all," he said mockingly.

"Well, we got the desired result, didn't we?" Phynkss asked. "Now we just wait for him to wake up and remember how much he hates us."

Quwrof sighed. "Just go back to the apartment. I'll let you know when he's up."

He waited for the two men to leave, then bent and picked up the unconscious boy, holding him against his chest. He ran easily back to Curarpikt's apartment, unseen on the empty sidewalks, and set the boy on the bed once inside.

He considered bandaging Curarpikt's torso, but decided not to bother since the boy would soon awaken, ready to kill Quwrof. And on further thought, he recalled that the boy didn't have a first-aid kit in the apartment. Quwrof rolled his eyes. The boy really did live with the bare minimums... He went to the kitchen, poured himself a drink, and sat on the sofa to wait. Quwrof felt some disappointment that Phynkss's experiment had worked and that the condition for retrieving Curarpikt's memory had been met. He'd been starting to look forward to the challenge of training the boy to become a Ryodan member.

He'd also been looking forward to the museum trip.

Quwrof stopped mid-thought. Maybe Nobunaga was right and Quwrof was starting to really warm up to the boy...

_No, that's ridiculous._ He was the leader of the Genei Ryodan. He had his loyal subordinates. He needed no friends, since the Ryodan was, despite appearances, quite close. Still... he had to admit that he'd been enjoying the past few weeks.

A low moan from the next room put Quwrof on alert. He pulled out his phone and quickly buzzed the Ryodan before sliding it back in his pocket.

Quwrof stood in the doorway and watched as the boy turned his head slightly and oriented on the man. Curarpikt's eyes took a moment to focus, and when they did, they remained hazel, much to Quwrof's surprise.

"...What? We're back?" the boy asked. He tried to sit up and hissed in pain. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Quwrof approached the boy cautiously, wondering if Curarpikt was trying to trick him. "...I think you have a few cracked ribs." He was actually impressed that that was all the boy had after taking a kick from Phynkss. Had he somehow been able to use kou without remembering how?

"What about you? Are you okay?" Curarpikt repeated.

"I'm fine." Quwrof stood beside the bed. "Do you remember what happened?"

The blond closed his eyes in thought. "I think... that I was kicked. Did I hit that cliff wall?" he asked, opening his eyes and furrowing his brows.

The man nodded, then knelt beside the boy, peering into his eyes. He was fairly certain that Curarpikt wasn't being deceptive. The boy simply didn't seem to remember...

Why hadn't his memory returned?

Quwrof replayed the scene in his mind. Curarpikt had definitely stepped between him and Phynkss's attack. And the boy had definitely taken the blow instead of Quwrof. _So why...?_ The answer came to him a moment later, almost making him swear out loud.

The condition wasn't met because Quwrof's life hadn't truly been in danger. So the boy hadn't actually been risking his life.

Things just always had to be complicated...

"I'm assuming that you don't want to go to the hospital."

Curarpikt shook his head. "They'd ask too many questions I couldn't answer."

Quwrof nodded, then left to get painkillers and water. "Here, take these for now. I'm going to go get some bandages so we can at least give your ribs some support. With ten, they'll heal faster than normal, so you should be okay in a few days."

Once out of the apartment, Quwrof pulled out his phone once more.

Nobunaga would not be pleased.

* * *

He met the Ryodan on the roof of Curarpikt's apartment building. Just as he'd expected, Nobunaga was not happy.

"What do you mean, he doesn't remember?" His arms were crossed in front of his chest.

"Exactly what I said. The condition wasn't met."

Phynkss shrugged. "Oh, well, you can't say we didn't try." He eyed the leader. "Unless you want to try again all out?"

Quwrof raised one brow at the taller man. "Do you want to die?"

Phynkss grinned. "Nah, not just yet." He readily acknowledged that he wasn't a match for Quwrof in a fight to the death. No one in the Ryodan was, for that matter. The man was too skilled of a fighter.

"Fine, then," Syarnorke said, "we either hope that someone of Dancho's caliber picks a fight with him in Curarpikt's presence..."

Matiy snorted. "Right, what are the odds of that happening?"

"...or," continued the young man, "we try to fulfill the other condition..."

"...Don't look at me. I'm not doing any more than I already am," Matiy protested.

"...or we go on with Dancho's plan of training him for the Ryodan in the hopes that he'll be convinced to join," concluded Syarnorke.

"Or," added Chzzck, "we combine both of the last two options?"

Quwrof looked mildly surprised that the young woman had been paying attention since her nose had been in a book. "...Well, that would make getting him to join easier."

"And you'd get yourself a nice little prize as well," Phynkss said with a meaningful look at the leader. Heytun chuckled.

"He's just a kid," Quwrof reminded the others. "I prefer them a little older."

"We don't know how old he is, remember?" Matiy pointed out. "He can't be that young if he's been pursuing us so diligently since we attacked the Kuruta. He has to be at least nineteen."

"I don't know about that," the leader said. "He barely looks fifteen or sixteen. He hasn't known nen long enough to affect his aging."

"Well, I guess the main thing that needs to be decided at this point is if we manipulate him and get him to join us, or if we work on his memory and kill him," Syarnorke said with an easy shrug.

_Easier said than done..._ Quwrof thought wryly.

* * *

"I have to say how stupid it was for you to pick a fight with that guy." Curarpikt's eyes were narrowed as Quwrof knelt by the bed.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Actually, getting in the middle of a fight seems stupider, considering that you're the one with the injuries." He helped the boy up to a seated position and indicated that he should lift his arms.

Curarpikt gritted his teeth in pain as the man pulled his shirt off of him. The left side of his torso had a long bruise running from below his bottom rib to just beneath his arm. The dark purple coloring stood out harshly against pale skin. Quwrof pressed gently against each rib, eliciting several hisses from the boy.

"Well, not as bad as I'd expected," the man commented, clearly impressed. "Only two of them are cracked. No complete breaks." He proceeded to wrap a bandage around the boy's body. He was surprised at how thin Curarpikt was. "They won't take long to heal. How's your head, though?"

The boy grimaced. "Not too good."

"Didn't think so. You'll want to wait to use nen again until your head recovers." He finished wrapping the bandage and tied the ends together. Then he helped Curarpikt into his pajama top, and ignoring the boy's protests, fastened the buttons for him.

"I'm not an invalid," the blond sighed exasperatedly.

"I might as well save you the pain," Quwrof responded. He poked the boy on the forehead with his index finger. "Now you get some sleep, or I'm not taking you to the museum tomorrow," he said as if to a pouting child.

"Very funny." Curarpikt rolled his eyes and lay back down, grunting softly from the strain on his bruise. He shifted carefully until he was reasonably comfortable. He turned his head slightly to look at Quwrof. "I still think it was stupid, but I _will_ thank you for... fighting for my honor..." he grinned sheepishly. "Thank you."

A smile appeared on the man's face. "You're welcome. And thank you for trying to protect me. Equally stupid, but appreciated nonetheless."


	8. Chapter 8

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond.

Standard disclaimers apply...

* * *

**Hunt for the Intangible – Chapter 8**

Another argument erupted between Quwrof and Curarpikt the following morning over the trip to the museum. The boy woke to stiffness and was walking awkwardly around the apartment to minimize the strain on his ribs. The man tried to put his foot down, insisting that Curarpikt should stay home. He eventually relented though as he came to a realization.

He had been arguing more because he simply enjoyed bickering with the boy.

Some Ryodan members occasionally tried to argue with him, but none were ever as stubborn as Curarpikt in his conviction that he was right. And none really had the gall to try to out-reason the Ryodan leader. Quwrof found that he had fun trying to anticipate just what argument the boy would use.

Nobunaga's accusation popped into his mind once more. He found it harder to deny now.

Now they were strolling leisurely through the museum. There was a decent-sized crowd as it was the first weekend for the exhibit. Curarpikt hissed once as he was jostled by someone pushing his way through.

Quwrof leaned over and whispered, "I told you that we should have stayed at home." He put an arm around the boy to guard against further contact with the crowd.

The boy responded by rolling his eyes but allowed the man to keep his arm around him.

There was actually another reason why Quwrof hadn't pushed for postponement of their trip. He and Syarnorke had come up with another phase to their plan, much to Matiy's displeasure. She had scowled at the men and groaned.

In fact, she was still scowling.

Quwrof grinned teasingly at the young woman, then squeezed Curarpikt's shoulder. "Curarpikt, there's a girl staring at you."

The boy turned in the direction the man was looking and saw Matiy. She had schooled her features into a neutral expression as soon as Quwrof leaned towards Curarpikt. The boy's eyes widened slightly, then he waved in recognition. Matiy waved back and approached. Only because he was expecting it could Quwrof see that she moved with barely suppressed reluctance.

"Hi, Matiy," Curarpikt said with a warm smile.

"Hi. I'm not surprised to see you at a museum."

Curarpikt turned slightly. "Quwrof, this is Matiy. She works at the bookstore cafe. Matiy, this is my friend Quwrof."

The man and young woman shook hands politely.

"Hello, Matiy. Are you here by yourself?"

Matiy smiled crookedly. Quwrof was certain that the young woman was deciding whether or not to follow the script. "Yes. A friend cancelled on me. I decided to come anyway, though."

"Would you like to join us?" Curarpikt asked, as Quwrof expected he would. "You don't mind, do you?" he added, looking up at Quwrof.

The man smiled at Matiy in response. "Yes, why don't you?"

The young woman hesitated. "Well, if you don't mind..."

Both assured her that they didn't, so they ended up walking among the exhibit as a trio.

Quwrof felt that it was one of the stranger days he'd experienced in quite a while. He would have never expected to be strolling among priceless artifacts with a Ryodan member and an enemy, casually discussing the differing periods in history that the pieces represented. He couldn't help but eye many of the pieces in terms of monetary value, and he almost laughed aloud. The museum security had no idea how easy it would have been for one visitor to make off with everything within the museum walls. All Quwrof had to do was... He let that thought drift away, unformed. He was here for more important reasons.

Matiy remained well-behaved, acting like a normal young woman enjoying a visit to a museum. Quwrof realized suddenly that he had rarely seen the young woman with a smile on her face. A shame, really, since the already pretty young woman was quite radiant when she smiled. He knew, of course, that the smiles were fake, and that he and Syar would most likely pay later for her hidden displeasure, but it didn't hurt to enjoy the effect while it lasted.

The trio had lunch together, which was another somewhat surreal experience for Quwrof. Matiy kept eyeing him over the menu, her expression unreadable. He could easily imagine her mutinous thoughts, though. She ordered a salad with bay shrimp, tomato soup, and a soda. Curarpikt ordered a crab sandwich and an iced tea. Quwrof chose a steak sandwich and a glass of wine. His lips curled into a smile as he thought of how utterly mundane the whole day was turning out to be. He pondered briefly the notion that this might have been a normal day had he not been from Ryusei City. He might really have been an art dealer, and this might have been an outing with a couple of friends.

_It might not be a bad way to live..._

But then, he might have missed the challenge of being better than everyone else, of outsmarting the foolish rich and powerful. Of having a true goal in life... Well, this was the life he had made for himself, leader of the most notorious criminal group in history. And he couldn't foresee that changing anytime in the future.

The lunchtime conversation was polite and banal, mostly a continuation of the discussions of the artwork, with occasional talks of their respective jobs. Then, after seeing the rest of the museum, they separated, Matiy leaving on her own, and Quwrof and Curarpikt leaving together.

"She's cute," Quwrof commented, once it was just the two of them. There had been, after all, another purpose for the museum expedition.

Curarpikt looked at the man briefly before focusing on the sidewalk once more. "You can say that."

"I bet she likes you," the man continued. "You should ask her out."

The blond stopped walking. "...We've been over this, Quwrof. Romance is not a wise option for me right now."

"You worry too much. Wouldn't you like to go out with a pretty girl just because? You might get lucky, you know," the man grinned wickedly.

Curarpikt stared at the man in disbelief. "Do I really look the type?"

Quwrof regarded the boy. "No, you're too serious." Then his grin returned. "And too pretty, too. _You_ could probably get a date with a nice young man."

The blond blushed. "Are you saying I look like a girl?"

"I didn't say that, but now that you've brought it up..." the man's grin widened.

The boy growled and made a face.

Quwrof chuckled, then shrugged. "Well, I still think Matiy likes you. It wouldn't hurt to get to know her better," he suggested.

"I can do that without any ulterior motives," the blond retorted.

Quwrof just chuckled in response.

* * *

Curarpikt was confirming inventory near the front door when Matiy arrived for work. The boy smiled at her as she approached.

"Good morning."

"Morning," the young woman responded. "Thanks for letting me hang out with you yesterday," Matiy continued. She paused for a moment, appearing to consider her words. "I hope that your boyfriend didn't mind too much."

Curarpikt blinked several times, then frowned slightly. "He's a friend," he corrected gently.

Matiy tilted her head at him. "Oh? I thought you were a couple since he had his arm around you when I first saw you guys."

"... He was protecting me from the crowd since I had... an accident... on Friday and hurt my ribs." They still hurt, in fact, but as Quwrof had predicted, they were healing unnaturally quickly with the help of nen. As long as he kept his movements easy and didn't strain his chest, it wasn't a problem.

"Oh," Matiy said. "Well, sorry I assumed you were gay. I don't want to offend you." She looked contrite.

"I'm not offended," Curarpikt assured the young woman quickly. He certainly didn't want her to think that he was intolerant. "You just surprised me, that's all. It hadn't occurred to me that we might be perceived that way." He wondered what Quwrof would say to that...

"Well, it's not my business, but I bet your friend likes you," Matiy said shrewdly. "So, if you _are_ gay and are interested, you definitely have a good chance, I would guess."

Curarpikt stared at the young woman. Then, remembering the time, said quickly, "I need to track down s few missing books. Have a good day." Turning abruptly, he left Matiy.

Her statement did raise a question he hadn't thought to ask of himself. He'd had other things to worry about after all. Still, Curarpikt supposed that it would eventually be a good thing to know where he stood. Matiy's words also reminded him of the slightly suspicious thought he'd had while he was still recovering from his illness. ...Why was a wealthy man staying with a much younger boy? Was Matiy's hunch about Quwrof correct?

And if so, what were Curarpikt's thoughts on it?

In any case, he decided to mention Matiy's assumption to Quwrof, just to see the man's reaction. So, once he was home and they were having dinner, he said without preamble, "Matiy assumed that you and I were a couple."

Quwrof raised an eyebrow. He looked amused. "She said that?" He chuckled softly. "So you had both of us playing matchmaker."

"You're not upset?"

"Why should I be? Were you?" the man countered.

"No," Curarpikt responded. "But she thought that she might have offended me for suggesting I was gay."

Quwrof regarded him curiously. "Are you?" Then he clarified, "Not offended, but gay."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Who knows? It hadn't really occurred to me to wonder about my orientation since there are many more important things that I don't know about myself." Curarpikt returned the look. "What about you?"

"Me? Gender doesn't matter to me," the man said easily.

Curarpikt nodded. He wasn't surprised, having suspected as much, but it didn't clarify anything, really. Yet, he couldn't ask the man if he had interest in Curarpikt beyond friendship... He regarded the man for a long moment.

"What?" Quwrof asked after a while.

The boy looked down. "Nothing."

The man watched him curiously. "Just because you hadn't wondered before, it doesn't mean you can't wonder now," he said eventually. "Do you feel a preference at all? Say, between Matiy and me?"

Curarpikt's eyes widened at the question. "...I..." He considered the question seriously. And drew a blank. He simply hadn't put any thought into attraction. "I have no idea," he finished. "Maybe I'm asexual," he suggested sheepishly.

"I doubt that," Quwrof chuckled. "But I'm going to make a guess that dating wasn't something you'd really thought of before you lost your memory, either."

Curarpikt's expression darkened. _Right, I was probably busy doing horrible things that need to be forgotten..._

Quwrof sighed. "Stop that. What I meant was that you're serious and a workaholic. Will you stop being so hard on yourself?" he asked, sounding a trifle annoyed.

The boy blinked in surprise. He occasionally had the feeling that the man could read his thoughts. "I can't help it," he said sullenly. "It makes me uneasy not knowing why I would have done this to myself."

The dark-haired man sighed loudly. "Listen, Curarpikt. Has it occurred to you at all that if you'd done anything seriously illegal, you'd probably have the law on your tail? Getting rid of your memories would have been a pretty stupid thing to do then, don't you think? How would you know to watch your back?"

The blond opened his mouth to protest, then considered the questions. "...True," he finally admitted, "but only if the authorities knew who they needed to go after. Maybe I've committed crimes without leaving evidence, and simply decided I couldn't deal with the guilt."

"Oh, for..." Quwrof sighed again, dropping his shoulders slightly. "You're just determined to believe you were evil, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not," Curarpikt said with a shake of his head. "I'm just being objective and taking everything into consideration."

Quwrof made a sniffing sound and rolled his eyes. "Right."

"Well, then, why are you so certain that I'm not evil?" the boy challenged.

The man laughed. He sounded both smug and amused. "Because it's so obvious, Curarpikt. How you are now can't be that different from how you were before."

"And exactly how am I?"

"You are a caring, honest person, Curarpikt. Don't believe otherwise," Quwrof answered, his look of amusement gone.

Curarpikt chewed on his lower lip for a long moment, then exhaled heavily. "Thank you," he said softly, eyes on his empty plate. "It's nice to know that you think I'm a good person."

* * *

Matiy was surprised to find Quwrof standing across the street as she stepped out of the store the next day. The man tilted his head slightly towards the right. With a sigh, Matiy began walking in that direction with Quwrof doing the same across the street a moment later. She walked for eight blocks before Quwrof joined her, and they continued silently for several more blocks. Finally, Quwrof nodded towards a cafe.

Once inside, he chose a table by a wall and sat facing the door. He said nothing until a waitress took their order. Then, he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

"Well," he said with one brow raised.

The young woman pursed her lips and shifted in her chair before saying, "Look , Dancho, I followed the script at the museum..."

"Yes, you did," Quwrof interrupted. "But...?"

"I... I just thought that we should consider all possibilities," Matiy finished lamely.

"Which would be?"

"...That... Curarpikt might prefer men."

Quwrof rubbed his chin with one hand, smiling slightly. "And this would have nothing to do with revenge?"

Matiy cringed. "Okay, maybe I was annoyed that you and Syar wanted me to... wind up as his girlfriend..." she admitted slowly.

The man's smile widened.

"But, I did really think that it would be a good idea to plant the idea of other possibilities in Curarpikt's head," Matiy added hurriedly. "The more chances of meeting the requirements, the better, right?."

Quwrof stared at Matiy for several long moments while she fought the urge to fidget. Then he abruptly chuckled softly.

"What?" Matiy asked, bewildered.

"Relax, Matiy," Quwrof said. "I'm not angry. I don't blame you for what you did. I was actually rather amused. And you're right. We shouldn't ignore any means of meeting the requirements."

"...Oh," Matiy murmured.

"We had a rather interesting conversation as a result," the man continued. "Curarpikt now knows my orientation, and has serious doubts about his. He suggested that he might be asexual."

Matiy's eyes widened. "...Well, that would ruin our chances of meeting _that_ requirement," she muttered. "Do we need to come up with another contingency plan?"

Quwrof rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt that he is. He doesn't seem the type. So, you and I will both do what we can to encourage a relationship."

"Do I still have to?" Matiy almost whined. Almost.

"Of course, you do. Your suggesting my interest to him changes nothing. We can't risk putting him into contact with his friends, and there aren't many who could put my life at risk, so this is what we're left with for now."

The young woman let out a long sigh. "Yes, Dancho."

This would probably end up being her most difficult assignment. She would much rather go up against a platoon of armed men than try to get a kid to fall in love with her. He wasn't even her type! Matiy liked her men tall and bulky, and strong enough to beat her at arm wrestling. And she liked them rough around the edges. Curarpikt was too... refined. Polite. And he looked so delicate.

She sighed again.

Quwrof laughed.

Matiy growled softly at him. "Oh, you are having way too much fun at my expense."

"I most certainly am," the man agreed easily.

"You realize that if he falls for me instead of you, I will have to make life very difficult for you. And for Syar," the young woman muttered.

The man grinned wickedly. "Oh, I would worry if you didn't."


	9. Chapter 9

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond.

Standard disclaimers apply...

**Hunt for the Intangible – Chapter 9**

What started out as a bad afternoon was rapidly becoming worse.

It was just her luck that she'd decided to get out of the apartment and wander around for awhile, just to explore. And to get away from Nobunaga and Phynkss who were having one of their stupid arguments... She never regretted being a member of the Genei Ryodan. The activities suited her temperament and abilities, and for the most part, she was free to do as she chose. Only occasionally did the whole Ryodan get together, and that was usually for short periods of time. Never long enough for the members' idiosynchracies, quirks, what have you, to really get on her nerves. But this afternoon, she'd had just about enough of the inane, testosterone-laden, bickering idiots. And it didn't help that they were both strengthening nen-users, both with the short fuses and punch-first-think-later mentality typical of that type.

So she'd sought peace and solitude. Only to be confronted with _this._

Several curses threatened to escape Matiy's lips as she faced the figure before her. It was that damned baked goods delivery guy, the one who had hit on her persistently on her first day at the cafe.

This was not a good day for Matiy and testosterone...

"Hey, beautiful, I was hoping to run into you again since you're never there yet when I make my delivery," the skinny man said.

"I told you, I'm not interested," Matiy said tightly. She looked around at the relatively empty street.

_Now, what?_

She could easily kill the guy, but the Ryodan was under orders to avoid killing if possible. If she killed the man, there would most likely be authorities stopping by the store to ask questions, and the last thing they wanted was unnecessary attention on the store...

"Oh, come on, just a drink? Well, it's still early, so how about dinner first?" the man persisted, stepping closer to the young woman.

Matiy moved away. "I said, I'm not interested." Why was it that the most unappealing men were usually the pushiest? She turned on her heel and started to walk away. The man grabbed her wrist and tried to pull her back.

_Okay, you asked for it._

The young woman faced the man, removing all traces of anger and aggression from her face. She would simply have to scare the man badly enough that he'd leave her alone. "Okay," she said resolutely, "you win. Let's go."

The man's face erupted in a grin, and he slid an arm around Matiy's waist, squeezing her buttock along the way. Fighting her repulsion and her normal instinct of abruptly cutting off her enemy's oxygen and blood supply to the brain, Matiy led the man down the street before abruptly turning into a narrow side street. It was dark, as there were no major light sources on the alley-like street. Just a few lighted windows casting a dim glow down on the street.

"Okay, you asked for this," Matiy started to say, then stopped, staring at the entrance to the street in amazement.

Curarpikt stood calmly, head inclined slightly. He was holding a small paper bag in one hand.

"Hi, Matiy," he said casually. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Curarpikt!" Matiy exclaimed, starting to take a step towards the boy. She'd come very close to being witnessed using nen... She tried to make herself appear frightened.

Fortunately, the foolish man grabbed her and pushed her against the building wall. "Hey, you're spending the evening with me, remember?"

Curarpikt approached the two. "I don't think so," the boy said. "She doesn't seem to want to. Right, Matiy?" he inquired.

"Right. Get me out of here," she hissed. It took all of her discipline not to laugh at the situation. A Genei Ryodan member asking to be rescued from a pathetic delivery guy... Still, things couldn't have worked out better. This would be a perfect opportunity to get closer to Curarpikt.

Curarpikt offered his free hand to Matiy. But as the young woman reached for his hand, the man swung his arm back and elbowed the boy in the face. The blond's head jerked backwards as the man's elbow contacted the side of his mouth, but the boy stood his ground.

He stood still for a moment, then spat blood on the asphalt and offered his hand once more as if nothing had happened. The man looked confused and infuriated. He swung his arm once more, but this time, he didn't get to complete the movement. Curarpikt's hand shot upward and grabbed the man's forearm inches from his face.

"You only get one free shot," the boy said softly, tightening his grip on the man's arm.

"Ow! OW!" The man struggled to free his arm. "Let go, you little brat!" He released Matiy's wrist and swung that arm towards Curarpikt's stomach.

The boy blocked the punch by grabbing that arm as well. The shopping bag fell to the ground with a few muffled cracks. "Leave Matiy alone."

"Go to hell!" the man spat.

Curarpikt narrowed his eyes. "Apparently, I've already been there," he muttered almost inaudibly before swiftly knocking the man down to the ground with one sweep of his leg. He placed a foot against the man's chest.

The man finally showed some fear as he looked up at the expressionless blond. The boy looked exactly like the Chain Guy in the memories Phalcnothdk had drawn from the Nostrad's bodyguard - calm but lethal. This was the Curarpikt that Matiy had been expecting to meet. She felt a slight chill of anticipation.

The boy ground his foot against the man's chest, causing him to yelp in pain. "Now," he said in the same soft tone, "you're going to leave and never appear before Matiy, or I'll break your ribs next time. Unless I'm feeling less generous and decide to render you incapable of ever having children... Understood?"

"Yeah, I got it! I got it!" The man stood hurriedly after Curarpikt removed his foot. He glared at the boy, then ran down the street without looking at Matiy.

Matiy stared at the boy. He appeared calm, but she could sense the agitation in his aura.

"...Thanks..." she finally said. She reached for the boy's face and wiped at the bit of blood that had remained on his lower lip and chin. "You're hurt."

"It's nothing," the boy said, eyes quickly tracking the alley. "I needed him to attack first."

Matiy nodded, then tilted her head upward at the taller figure. "You're more than you appear to be," she commented.

Curarpikt looked down at the young woman and frowned. "...And what do I appear to be?" he asked reluctantly.

"Like a nice, educated young man who wouldn't know an upper-cut from a jab. You certainly don't look strong enough to stand up to a man much taller than you. Nor do you look that aggressive."

The boy looked slightly ashamed. "Well, that... I had a similar incident happen to me a few days ago..." he admitted, blushing, "so I think I might have been a little harder on him than I needed to be..."

_Oh, right, Phynkss._

She had to keep herself from grinning. Then Matiy raised her brows slightly. In her opinion, Curarpikt had been easy on that jerk. The boy really wasn't cut out for vengeance or violence... What had it cost him to be able to take down Wbererguin?

"Are you okay?" Curarpikt asked.

The young woman smiled. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine." Then realizing that she shouldn't appear so unaffected, she added, "Just a little shaken up. But I'm not hurt."

The boy smiled back, relieved. He looked nothing like the intimidating figure that had threatened the man just moments ago. The difference was almost unnerving.

But after her lousy afternoon of dealing with overly aggressive men, the boy's relative calm and gentleness almost seemed like a breath of fresh air.

"So," Matiy began, taking the opportunity that had been presented to her, "do you lift weights, or something? How did you get to be so strong?"

"I... um..." Curarpikt abruptly looked uncomfortable.

Matiy waited for the boy's response, then eventually said, "Let me guess. You can't say."

"...Sorry."

The young woman shrugged. In reality, she was beginning to enjoy this little game of prying information she already had out of the boy. She didn't think it would take her much longer to have him confiding his secret in her.

"It's okay. You can tell me if and when you feel like it." She grinned at the boy. She started to say goodbye, then realized that as a "rescued damsel," she ought to offer the boy something. "Uh, Curarpikt, can I thank you for helping me? A drink, maybe?" Although she doubted that the boy drank.

As predicted, he responded, "Thanks, but I don't drink. And I should get back. Quwrof will be expecting me for dinner, and I'm already late."

"Oh, sorry..."

The boy smiled reassuringly. "No, it's not your fault. I made a detour to buy a mug, since I broke one last week..." With a start, Curarpikt picked up the forgotten bag and peered inside. He made a slight face.

Matiy leaned over and peered into the bag as well. The mug lay at the bottom of the bag in three pieces. "Um... sorry..."

Curarpikt chuckled. "I just don't seem to be having much luck with mugs." He shrugged. "It could have been worse. Don't worry about it." He looked down the street briefly, thinking. "Would you like me to walk you home?"

"Oh, no, I'll be fine," Matiy said quickly. She couldn't be certain that one of the Ryodan members wouldn't be wandering near the apartment, and after tonight, Curarpikt didn't need to be running into Phynkss and Heytun.

"Okay. Be careful," the boy said. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Yeah. Thanks again," Matiy said, waving at Curarpikt as they parted.

Once he was out of sight, she sighed. It was becoming increasingly easier to almost like the kid... He truly was a good kid, and Matiy found that she occasionally appreciated a little bit of goodness in her life. Just because she was a Spider and had no qualms about killing, it didn't mean that she was evil at heart and loved all things evil.

It was all a matter of perspective...

* * *

She informed Dancho of the incident later that night. As expected, he was highly amused. And interested in the boy's display of aggression, however mild by Ryodan standards. The leader also made a good suggestion. She would never admit that it was, and she growled and grumbled for appearance's sake, but Matiy secretly agreed that it would help push things along.

So, the next day she returned to the bookstore several hours after the end of her shift, just as Curarpikt was getting ready to leave the store. The boy blinked in surprise as he discovered Matiy waiting for him just outside the doors.

"Oh, hi. Did you forget something?" he asked pleasantly.

"No," Matiy smiled. "I wanted to give you this." She handed the boy a bag. He accepted it curiously and looked inside. He pulled out a new mug.

"Oh." The boy stared at it for a moment before smiling warmly at the young woman. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"Well, seeing as it was my fault you broke the one you bought," Matiy grinned. "And, since that just replaces what was broken, how about dinner to thank you for helping me last night?"

Curarpikt considered the offer. "Well," he said, pausing, "I'm actually in charge of dinner tonight since Quwrof said that he'd be late... Do you want to come over?" he asked.

Dancho had assumed that he'd offer. "The point is for _me_ to treat you to dinner, Curarpikt," Matiy said, smiling crookedly.

"You can buy dessert, then," the boy grinned. "I'm lousy in the kitchen, so I have to buy prepared food anyway."

Matiy laughed. "Really? You seem like you'd be good at cooking."

"You're the one who said that I'm not what I appear to be, remember?" the boy said, his lips quirked upward.

"Right." She gestured onward with one hand. "Well, then, you're on. Shall we?"

The point actually was to encourage the friendship between Matiy and Curarpikt. Quwrof was much encouraged by their interactions thus far, but he didn't want to neglect anything that might help. If Curarpikt came to trust Matiy as well, that could decrease the chance of the boy being opposed to the Ryodan once he learned of its existence. That, and he still hadn't given up on having the boy fall for one of them.

Of course, the incident with Phynkss and Heytun could cause potential discord, but there were still Syarnorke, whom Curarpikt had already begun to develop a friendship with, and Chzzck.

Matiy wandered through the market with Curarpikt, mildly amused at the situation. It was clear that the boy had no intention of doing any real cooking as he went straight for the deli. She still couldn't get over the fact that a guy who seemed capable of doing everything well couldn't cook. Curarpikt selected several items, then turned to Matiy while the man behind the counter was packaging the order.

"What is so funny?" Curarpikt asked.

"You," Matiy said honestly. "You _really_ don't cook, huh?"

"I haven't gotten around to really learning," the boy muttered, slightly embarrassed. "Maybe I should pick up a cookbook at the store..." he said with a sheepish grin.

"Oh, that's fine," Matiy smiled. "You're a young guy, after all, and most young guys don't cook either. It's just that you're living on your own, so I figured you would have picked up a few skills. How long have you been on your own?"

As expected, the boy's expression darkened minutely. "... Long enough..." he said.

Yet another ambiguous answer.

Matiy really was surprised, though. She knew that the boy had most likely been on his own since the raid on the Kuruta, unless he'd found people to live with, so that would mean over five years of surviving alone. She would have thought that he would've had to cook at one time or another.

Unless he'd never had any chance to spend time in a real home with a real kitchen...

Abruptly, Matiy felt a little badly for the boy. She shook the thought out of her mind, though, and focused on the mission: earn the boy's trust, and possibly his affection.

"What do you feel like for dessert?" Matiy inquired.

"Surprise me," Curarpikt suggested.

"Okay," Matiy grinned. She left the boy waiting at the counter and went to select a dessert.

Eventually, they made the short walk to Curarpikt's apartment. Quwrof had commented that the place was practically bare, but Matiy was still surprised when she stepped through the door. It was clean and tidy, but Quwrof was right. The boy had nothing. The walls were bare, there was no television or radio, and just a few pieces of furniture.

"...Have you considered getting a poster? Or a plant? Or something?" Matiy asked as she set the boxed dessert on the bare counter.

The boy regarded her for a moment, then said, "A plant might be nice." He surveyed the room. "I guess it _is_ a little drab," he admitted. He set the bags on the counter and gestured towards the sofa. "Have a seat. Do you want something to drink? I can't offer you alcohol until Quwrof gets back since the beer is his."

"What do you have?"

Curarpikt grinned apologetically. "Unfortunately, I can only offer you orange juice, milk, or water."

"Water's fine," Matiy responded and sat on the sofa.

The blond stepped into the bedroom for several moments and emerged again with his coat and scarf shed. Matiy watched him surreptitiously as he got a glass out of a cabinet and filled it with water. At the bookstore, at the museum, here in his home, he just seemed so… normal. Like any other teenager. The last surviving Kuruta, getting a glass of water for a member of the Genei Ryodan. It was too surreal… Matiy almost couldn't contain the chuckle that threatened to leave her throat.

The blond stepped around the counter and approached the sofa. He handed Matiy the glass and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm poorly prepared for having guests. Don't even have a stereo," he said, giving her another apologetic smile.

"That's okay. You can talk to me while you… uh, 'cook,'" Matiy replied.

"Right," Curarpikt said, looking like he was considering sticking a tongue out at her. Matiy bit down on her own to keep from laughing.

She found that the more time she spent with him, the easier it became to converse with Curarpikt as if they really were friends. It amazed her, since she'd initially thought that they had nothing in common. But despite the impracticality of it, his absolute honesty and inability to lie was refreshing for Matiy. And while Curarpikt wasn't the only intelligent person that she knew, his intelligence didn't seem intimidating like Dancho's, or annoying like Syar's. And although she would never admit it to the Spiders, it was a nice change to not have to talk with someone about killing or stealing or causing havoc and chaos in general.

Friends. Had she even ever had someone she could call a friend? The Ryodan members were the closest things she had to friends, but they were really more her colleagues…

She gave up and let a small sigh escape.

"Is something wrong?" Curarpikt inquired, ever the thoughtful person. He was in the process of setting the table.

Matiy smiled. "Oh, nothing's wrong."

If "nothing" could be used to describe trying to retrieve an enemy's memory by making him fall in love with you…

Her smile faltered. _Okay, what do I do to encourage that?_ She could imagine Phynkss making some crude suggestion, and she mentally landed a punch in the leering idiot's mouth.

"So, um," she said brightly, "are you going home for the New Year?"

She watched as Curarpikt's movements skipped a beat. He didn't look at her as he answered, "No, I'll be staying in Sonisco." He set a platter on the table, then approached the sofa. He sat beside Matiy and said, "Quwrof should be back in a bit. You don't mind waiting?"

"No, not at all." Matiy was a little surprised that she was capable of such prolonged polite conversation. _I'm beginning to sound like Syar or Dancho!_

If nothing else, this was turning out to be quite a learning experience.

* * *

"So, how'd your date with the Chain Guy go?"

She would have landed the punch, but Phynkss had made the comment with the expectation of an attack and was dodging even before he had finished his statement.

"Stop taunting her, Phynkss," Syarnorke said disapprovingly, but his eyes were crinkled in a smile. "It wasn't a date because they had a chaperone there."

Matiy missed that punch, too, so she sat heavily against the wall with a frustrated growl. "I _will_ get you back, Syar, for this scheme of yours."

"You'll try," he smiled back, unfazed. "But, in all seriousness, how did the evening go?"

She contemplated being difficult, but she simply shrugged. "Fine. He doesn't suspect a thing, and we're really acting like we have a friendship. He hasn't confided in me about his memory problem, but I really think I can get him to trust me enough for that soon."

Nobunaga snorted and mumbled something rude about not believing that Matiy could act like someone you could confide in.

Matiy threw him a dirty look. Then she admitted, "Well, he doesn't seem to socialize, so I'm sure I'm his only friend. Aside from Dancho." She looked at Syarnorke and said, "I'm sure it's only a matter of time before he's telling me his secret."

"What secret?" Chzzck asked without looking up from her book.

The whole room groaned, and no one answered.

"Does it matter whether or not he tells you?" Heytun asked. "All that matters is that the Chain Guy falls in love with you or Dancho, right? The rest seems a waste of time."

"It's not a waste of time to encourage trust to that point," Syarnorke explained. "It makes it much more likely that Curarpikt would be able to fall in love. He is not the type to love without trust."

No, so it seemed to make more sense to focus their efforts on having Curarpikt fall for Dancho since he already trusted the man. At least it made sense to Matiy. Or, better yet, hunting up his little friends and trying to convince them to betray Curarpikt. That would be much more palatable, if not possible.

"Look, I'm just following orders. And hoping it's Dancho he goes for, and not me," Matiy added with a grumble.

"Then, I kill him!" Nobunaga said emphatically.

"I still think it's a better idea to recruit him," Chzzck threw in, still not looking up from her book.

Syarnorke chewed on his lower lip briefly before saying, "Uhmm, I'm inclined to agree with her…"

The older man whipped his head around to glare at Syarnorke. "What the hell, Syar! Don't you turn against me, too!"

"I…" Matiy began hesitantly.

"You!"

The young woman grimaced. "Look, he's really not… I mean, he'd seriously be an asset to the Ryodan. Now that he knows about nen, if we could just train him the way we wanted… and maybe forget about getting his memory back…" Matiy couldn't believe the words that were leaving her mouth, but she found that spending time with Curarpikt was almost… enjoyable, and she was beginning to think that it might be pleasant to have a Ryodan member she could talk with on occasion.

"Are you nuts?" Nobunaga roared.

"Nah, she's just horny," Phynkss laughed. "She denies it, but she actually wants that kid and wants to ravage his sweet, innocent…"

This time, the punch found its mark.


	10. Chapter 10

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond.

Standard disclaimers apply...

* * *

**Hunt for the Intangible – Chapter 10**

Nobunaga sat on the rooftop glaring down at the street. He'd been sent for food, and while the Ryodan most often raided convenience stores for alcohol, sandwiches, chips, and the like, this evening Matiy had commented that she'd like hot food. To which the others had promptly agreed, much to Nobunaga's displeasure. So, as he'd been the one who lost the card game, he'd had no choice but to place a take-out order at a restaurant. Then, because he'd felt out of place waiting inside among the patrons, he'd decided to take refuge on the roof for the twenty minutes until the order was ready.

All unflattering thoughts of Matiy disappeared, though, when he spotted a slender figure walking down the sidewalk below. _The Chain Guy!_ He'd recognize that silhouette and blond hair anywhere... Nobunaga had forgotten that the restaurant he'd chosen was right on the boy's path home from the bookstore. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to leap down to street level and skewer the boy with his sword.

_I can't... I have my orders..._ He repeated the words to himself several times, willing the killing lust to leave him.

Dancho was making slow but certain progress with the Chain Guy, and the boy now seemed to trust the Ryodan leader implicitly. As much as he doubted its success, Nobunaga had to let the Dancho try to turn the Chain Guy into a Spider. For, although the thought infuriated him, he knew that the leader was right, as he invariably, and annoyingly, always was; the kid _would_ be an asset to the group. Quwrof had never steered the group wrong. Nobunaga simply refused to acknowledge it out loud, though.

And, well, if it didn't work, Dancho was also right in saying that the boy would be devastated once he learned that he'd been training with the leader of the Genei Ryodan. Possibly working with the Ryodan, even...

That entertaining thought did much to calm Nobunaga.

The man tensed abruptly as he sensed familiar nen. He scanned the sidewalk behind the Chain Guy and saw a tall figure weaving its way down the street, following the boy. The hackles raised on the back of Nobunaga's neck.

_That traitorous bastard..._

* * *

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" the tall man grinned.

Curarpikt took a half-step back. After the incident with the browless man on the beach, he was warier of men approaching him, especially when they looked like the figure before him: tattooed and dressed like a… clown. And this man was also apparently a nen-user...

"What do you want?" he asked. He berated himself for his habit of taking the shortcut through the alley. Of course, if he were taller and more masculine-looking, it might not have been a problem... He could almost imagine Quwrof laughing at him.

"Oh, you know what I want," the man chuckled. "I'm always in search of a good challenge. I came here searching for Dancho – oh, I guess he's not my Dancho anymore - but I can entertain myself with you first. There's plenty of time to hunt for Dancho or the Ryodan afterwards."

Curarpikt gritted his teeth. He hated to have to ask this... "You're not thinking I'm female, are you?"

The man's eyes widened. After a moment of scrutinizing the boy, he smiled. "Well, isn't this interesting..."

The blond narrowed his eyes. Something about the way the man had looked at him seemed... "Do I know you?" he asked hesitantly.

The man laughed heartily. "Well, now," he said simply. He grinned seductively. "Do you want to know me?"

"No," Curarpikt said firmly. The man made the hair on the back of his neck rise.

The man laughed louder. "Oh, don't be that way," he said, stepping closer to the boy. Curarpikt backed against the wall and flinched as the man leaned against it, one arm on either side of the blond. The man pressed his body against Curarpikt, causing him to jerk violently as he felt the unmistakable physical interest in him. Curarpikt's first thought was to shove and kick the man, but it was obvious to him that the man leaning against him was powerful. The aura that he was emitting was almost stifling.

The boy's mind raced. He hadn't been training that long yet with Quwrof. He hadn't even decided on what he would be materializing with nen. But his ren was powerful, his body easily getting back into the habit of manipulating the aura that flowed within him. However, he didn't know if he wanted to use nen against a human... He wasn't yet certain of his control.

Abruptly, he sensed powerful nen coming from above as well. Despite the risk, he looked up, as did the man. Another tall man leapt down from the rooftop. This one, too, was dressed oddly, wearing sandals, a robe belted at the waist, and snug-fitting shorts. In the middle of winter. His hair was tied in an odd topknot, and on his waist he wore what had to be a sword.

_The circus. I've somehow ended up in a circus..._

Curarpikt stared at the newcomer warily. The two men stared at each other, then the clown man's eyes moved between the newcomer and Curarpikt several times. The clown man grinned slowly as the topknot man drew his sword.

"Leave now _without another word_," the man with the sword said threateningly.

The clown man's grin remained. He looked back at Curarpikt and leaned close, pressing his lips against his ear. "I'll see you again, my lovely, ripening fruit," he murmured. Then, with a wild laugh, he was gone.

Curarpikt released the breath he'd been holding unconsciously. He shuddered slightly and wrapped his arms around himself. He felt... dirty. Then, remembering the other man, he looked at the newcomer.

"Thank you," he said, blushing. Being rescued like a damsel in distress did not help his self-image...

The man blinked in surprise. He sheathed his sword and rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Uh... yeah. No problem." He stared at the boy uncertainly.

The man stared for so long that Curarpikt felt like squirming. _Out of the frying pan and into the fire?_ He finally took a wary step backward, causing the man to blink again.

The man blushed. "Hey, no, I'm not like that," he protested, looking mildly offended.

"...I'm sorry," Curarpikt said, abashed. "I'm a little hyper-sensitive right now. This hasn't been a good month for me," he explained with another blush. He held out his hand. "Thank you," he said again.

The man hesitated before taking his hand. He released it quickly. He looked flustered.

Curarpikt tilted his head at the man. He hoped that the man wasn't acting this way because he also thought that Curarpikt was a girl. He'd had quite enough of that mistaken assumption.

"My name is Curarpikt," he continued, since the man wouldn't stop staring at him.

The man blinked yet again. "I'm... Nobunaga," he responded somewhat reluctantly.

Curarpikt smiled at the man. "Thank you, Nobunaga. I should head home before my friend starts worrying. But if there's anything I can do for you, you can find me at Dog-Ear Books just down the street."

Nobunaga nodded and let Curarpikt pass by. At the end of the alley, the boy looked over his shoulder, but the man was gone.

* * *

"Well, what'd you bring back?" Syarnorke looked at Nobunaga pointedly, noting the lack of any bags.

Nobunaga's eyes widened. "Shit, I forgot!" The food was probably still sitting in a bag at the restaurant.

"How can you forget when you went out with the express purpose of bringing back dinner?" Syarnorke asked exasperatedly.

"I 'met' the Chain Guy."

That got the most of the group's attention.

Phynkss laughed. "What? You get on my case for going to get a look at him, and you do the same thing?"

"No," Nobunaga denied. "I hadn't intended on it!" He stood above the group, hands on his hips. "I saw Hyskoa," he announced almost defiantly.

That got even Chzzck's attention.

"He's here in Sonisco?" she asked.

Nobunaga sat down. "I saw him from the rooftop, so I followed him, of course. Especially since he was targeting the Chain Guy and following him into an alley. I had to interfere before he started asking the kid about the Ryodan."

Matiy asked, "Why was he after Curarpikt? Did he seem to know that Dancho's with him?"

The man snorted. "You know Hyskoa. It seemed like he'd been waiting for the right time to challenge the kid." His expression became more serious. "But the fool is definitely here for Dancho. He must have somehow found out about Dancho having his nen back."

"You're certain that Hyskoa didn't mention Quwrof's name to Curarpikt?" Syarnorke asked.

"Positive," Nobunaga said. "I listened to their whole conversation and stopped him before he could. But Hyskoa now knows that we're here, and that the Chain Guy is without his memory."

"And," Syarnorke said, "Hyskoa is an intelligent man. It won't be too hard for him to figure out the connection."

"We should call Dancho and warn him," Matiy said. Syarnorke nodded and pulled out his phone. He stepped over to a corner of the room.

Phynkss was staring at Nobunaga. "I'm amazed you didn't kill the kid while you had the chance," he commented.

"And have Dancho pissed off at me?" Nobunaga scoffed. He leaned against the wall and stretched out his legs.

Matiy regarded the man with interest. "So?" she asked.

"So, what?"

"What did you think of him?"

Nobunaga hesitated. His impression had been similar to the others', that the boy seemed very different from Phalcnothdk's memories. And from the memory of the guy he'd beheaded in Yorkshin. The kid seemed... harmless, as Matiy had initially said. And without the arrogant and menacing look in his eyes, he was certainly pretty enough to attract Quwrof's and Syarnorke's interest. Phynkss's, too, if the Chain Guy were really female and didn't simply look it.

But what really threw Nobunaga was how fragile the boy seemed... He didn't seem like someone who could have maliciously killed someone.

And in a twisted sort of way, the simple fact that Hyskoa had perverted intentions for the Chain Guy made Nobunaga want to protect the kid, just to thwart that sick clown... He despised Hyskoa even more than he hated the Chain Guy. Had it not been for that man creating a false prophesy, the Ryodan wouldn't have been without the leader for two months, and Phalknothck would still be alive... So it would be a cold day in Hell before he let Hyskoa have someone that Dancho had an interest in.

So he had acted without really thinking. He'd known that he had to stop Hyskoa from revealing anything to the Chain Guy, but he'd hesitated to act in the beginning, part of him hoping that the perverted man would injure and humiliate the boy. But the moment that Hyskoa started pawing at the boy, Nobunaga felt an irrational surge of irritation and anger, and before he knew what he was doing, he had leapt from the rooftop to confront the former Ryodan member.

Matiy was still staring at Nobunaga, waiting for his response to her question.

"He's... different," he said simply. "And without his past, just a pretty kid. Not worth killing yet," he muttered.

"Oh, really? Pretty, huh?" Phynkss asked, crossing his arms. "I thought you were straight."

Nobunaga blushed and fumed. He really had been disturbed when the boy had backed away from him like he was some sexual predator. "That's not what I meant! It's..." he faltered. His reason for not wanting to kill the Chain Guy seemed twisted, even to himself. "Look, I protected him from Hyskoa tonight… well, sort of, since he could have most likely protected himself, but… Well, so he's kind of like... under my protection now," he finished lamely.

Matiy, Phynkss, and Heytun exploded in laughter.

"Oh, this is classic," Phynkss barked. "First me, and now the kid's being approached by the pervert of all perverts? He must be hating his looks by now."

Syarnorke returned to the group, pocketing his phone. "What? What did I miss?" he asked, noting the grins on some of their faces.

"Nobunaga is now Curarpikt's self-proclaimed knight-in-shining-armor," Matiy said, stifling a giggle.

Nobunaga swore loudly.

"Okay, okay," Syarnorke said, placing a hand on Nobunaga's shoulder. "Leave him alone, guys." He sat beside the irritated man. "Nobunaga, do you know if Hyskoa knows where Curarpikt lives?"

The man nodded. "He doesn't know yet. I made certain he wasn't following the kid back to his place."

"Good," Syarnorke said. "We can't let Hyskoa tell Curarpikt about his past and connection to us. It won't make him remember, but we don't want him learning that Dancho is the enemy. Well, not just yet."

Matiy grinned in anticipation. "Are we going to hunt down Hyskoa?" She cracked her knuckles loudly.

"No," Syarnorke sighed. "We just need to keep him from contacting Curarpikt again. And from finding Dancho, if possible. Dancho doesn't want things more complicated than they already are."

"Why doesn't Dancho just accept Hyskoa's challenge and kill him?" Heytun asked.

"He said that he'll consider it if necessary, but it's not something he wants to deal with right now. Seriously, would _you_ want to fight hand-to-hand against Hyskoa?"

Matiy shivered. "I wouldn't want that creep close enough to touch me. But… it'll be easy for that bastard to locate Curarpikt again now that he knows the kid is here."

"We could assign Nobunaga to guard him night and day," Phynkss said, smirking evilly.

"Over my dead…"

Syarnorke interrupted with a hand against the angry man's chest. "Hold on, Nobunaga, let me think."

"Oh, this won't be good," muttered Matiy.

* * *

Curarpikt looked somewhat irritated as he stepped through the door. Quwrof tilted his head at the boy, surprised by the unusual mood.

"Rough day at work?"

"No," Curarpikt responded reluctantly. "I had another undesirable encounter."

Quwrof's lips turned up slightly, but he schooled his expression into a neutral one as the boy glared at him.

"It's not funny." He sat on the sofa with a loud sigh. "Why does this keep happening?" he muttered.

The man joined him on the sofa. "Because you look..."

The boy turned on Quwrof. "Don't you dare finish that statement. And this guy didn't care either that I'm male." He leaned against the backrest tiredly. "I can't win either way."

"So what did you do to him?"

Curarpikt blushed. "Nothing... I was trying to decide how aggressively I should fight him, but another man stepped in and... 'rescued' me..."

Quwrof stifled a laugh. "How fortunate."

"They were both nen-users, by the way," Curarpikt said.

"Really? What were they like?" the man asked, instantly curious.

"The guy who rescued me was dressed a little oddly. And he had a sword."

_Nobunaga? What was he doing following Curarpikt?_

"... What was the other man like?" he asked.

Curarpikt made a face. "Creepy. He had trump marks on his face and was dressed oddly, too; a little like a clown..."

Quwrof swore inwardly just as his phone rang. He stood. "Sorry, let me take this," he told the boy and stepped out onto the balcony. Even before he pulled his phone out of his pocket, he knew that it would be a Ryodan member on the other end.

_Hyskoa is here in Sonisco..._

As if things weren't already complicated enough...

He joined Curarpikt on the sofa again several minutes later. "This guy didn't do anything to you, right?"

The boy scrunched his nose in distaste. "He tried." He shuddered. "He was really... creepy," he repeated, for lack of a better word. Then his expression changed slightly. He looked almost haunted. "I had the feeling that he might know me... but he didn't say anything..."

Quwrof straightened. Syarnorke had said that Nobunaga was certain that Hyskoa hadn't revealed anything... "What exactly did this guy say?"

The blond furrowed his brows in thought. "He mentioned that he was looking for someone. I felt like he said it as if it would mean something to me."

"Did he say who?"

Curarpikt looked at the man oddly, possibly finding Quwrof's questions to be strange. Then, thinking for a moment, he said, "He was looking for 'the Ryodan.' And its leader." He tilted his head at Quwrof. "I don't know what he was talking about."

"Anything else?" Quwrof pressed. The boy shook his head. "Hmm," the man said slowly, "well, the Ryodan probably refers to the Genei Ryodan..."

"The Genei Ryodan?" Curarpikt inquired.

Quwrof nodded. Now was as good a time as any to gauge the boy's reaction. And to do a little bit of propaganda work...

"Yes, they're an organization that's on the criminal A-list."

"So the guy might have been a bounty hunter. Or, he wanted to join the group," Curarpikt suggested. He shrugged. "I can't say much for a group that _he_ would want to be a part of..."

"Don't be so hasty," Quwrof warned. "They're rumored to be a group of cold-hearted killers and thieves, but you can't believe everything that you hear."

"True," the boy acknowledged.

"Maybe they have a specific purpose, like stealing from criminals to help others. Or maybe they kill for vengeance, for terrible wrongs done by others."

_Oh, Quwrof, you are so twisted._

"I suppose that's possible..."

Quwrof regarded the boy for a long moment as if contemplating something. "You said you thought that the man might know you. Maybe you were a member of the Ryodan?"

Curarpikt's eyes widened. "…What?" He looked just short of punching Quwrof.

"Well, it would make sense, right? You're afraid you had your memory removed because you might have done something that seemed very wrong to you. Perhaps one of the group's activities ended badly, and your conscience couldn't deal with it."

The boy opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, sinking dejectedly. "A criminal… I'd suspected, but I was so hoping that it wasn't true."

"You make the word 'criminal' sound so unpalatable. So why would you even suspect such a thing of yourself?"

"You're the one who just said that it would make sense, Quwrof," Curarpikt responded sullenly.

Quwrof let himself sigh. "I wasn't the one who implied that being a criminal is so… distasteful." He grinned. "You're a well-read person. Surely you understand that not everything is so black and white. There are reasons behind everything, and it's not entirely unlikely that the group has good intentions."

"Good intentions? Killers?" Curarpikt's voice oozed skepticism.

"Anything is possible. Just think on it for awhile."

The boy frowned severely, then stood abruptly. "I need a computer." He looked determined.

Quwrof reached for the boy. "Wait," he said, capturing a thin wrist. Curarpikt raised one brow questioningly. The dark-haired man frowned. He couldn't risk the boy being found again by Hyskoa. It also didn't seem like an entirely good idea to let the boy do research.

"Wait," he repeated. "Maybe you should stay home tonight. That strange man could still be out there."

Curarpikt quirked one corner of his mouth in an almost-smile. "I can't be afraid to go out into the world." He gently pried Quwrof's hand from his wrist, patted it once, and said, "Don't worry. I can take care of myself. I won't be gone long."

Quwrof watched the boy leave the apartment, a mild feeling of uneasiness settling into him. Then, shaking his head minutely, he dialed his phone.

Leave it to Hyskoa to complicate matters, as always…


	11. Chapter 11

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond.

Standard disclaimers apply...

* * *

**Hunt for the Intangible – Chapter 11**

"I'm really not comfortable with this..." Curarpikt said, arms held stiffly at his side. He stood uncomfortably as Quwrof looked him over slowly.

The man finally tilted his head at the boy and smirked. "Relax. You're not going to hurt me, and I promise to go easy on you."

As much as he didn't really want to learn how well he could fight, Curarpikt found himself slightly irked by Quwrof's last statement. The man seemed to have the utmost confidence in his own skills as a fighter.

Curarpikt, however, had unknown potential.

"Besides, we came all the way out here to the middle of nowhere. Don't tell me you want to go home without at least finding out what you can do."

_Dammit..._ Curarpikt had to admit that despite his misgivings, he _was_ just slightly curious...

"You promise no nen assaults."

"Yes, I promise. I doubt you're ready for that just yet," Quwrof said. "So, are we going to do this, or not?"

The blond gave a resigned sigh. That was all the consent that the man needed. He was in front of Curarpikt in half a breath, one arm angled across his chest in preparation of a strike. The boy blinked in surprise, the millisecond's delay costing him. The next moment, he was hitting the dirt hard with dust swirling up around him. He lay on his back for a few seconds, then pushed himself upright, coughing.

"A little warning next time?" he asked, irritated.

"Not bad," Quwrof grinned, pleased. "Although you wouldn't have flown as far if you'd strengthened the nen around your feet as well."

Curarpikt stood, smacking the dirt off of his back and bottom. "I haven't had enough practice with ryuu yet," he retorted.

Even before he'd had a chance to finish his sentence, Quwrof was attacking again. This time, though, the boy had been expecting it, so he leapt upward, touching down briefly on the man's shoulders in a handstand, then springing off to land on the ground yards away.

"You're agile," Quwrof said, impressed, spinning around at the same time.

Curarpikt was already facing him, palms lined up in front of his chest. The boy gave the man a swift two-handed shove. Despite the force behind the blow, the man only skidded backwards several feet. He grinned at the blond and swung his leg at him. The boy dodged sideways and moved behind the man before Quwrof had finished the kick. Curarpikt aimed a kick at the man's back, but his leg was trapped within the man's arms the next moment.

Quwrof shook his head. "You hesitated. That gave me more than enough time to stop you." He released the boy's leg. "Go all out. I told you, you won't hurt me."

The boy drew his brows together in annoyance. Without a word, he attacked again, this time landing a punch to the stomach.

"That's better," Quwrof smiled after straightening. He appeared unaffected by the blow.

Curarpikt blinked, shocked by the man's strength and endurance. "You weren't fighting seriously that night on the beach," he accused.

"Of course, not," the man rolled his eyes. "Against a stranger, over something so... ridiculously macho?" he chuckled, mocking Curarpikt's description of that battle.

"What if he had caught you off guard and seriously hurt you?" Curarpikt asked, already moving forward for his next attack.

"Trying to distract me?" Quwrof asked as he dodged easily. He looked pleased. "The man could not have caught me off guard," he added, raising his voice as Curarpikt jumped back several yards to avoid the man's attack. "I knew that he was less of a fighter."

"Arrogance?" Curarpikt threw out, judging the distance to a tree limb jutting above Quwrof.

"Experience."

Curarpikt rolled his eyes, then launched himself for the tree limb. He grabbed it easily and let the force swing him forward towards Quwrof's head. One foot contacted the man in his left shoulder, sending him backwards. The man was quick, though, and his right hand shot upward to grab Curarpikt's leg as it swung away. He yanked hard, dislodging Curarpikt's grip on the limb, and then they were both falling. Quwrof changed the angle of his pull so that the blond landed hard before the man. The dark-haired man's back hit the dirt the next moment, and he used the force of the fall to continue back and up into a backwards somersault. He was up on his feet even as Curarpikt was regaining his.

The man grinned at the blond. "You're resourceful," he said approvingly.

"I have to be! You're faster and stronger. And taller, which gives you," he arched back and away from Quwrof's arm, "a farther reach!"

"We all use what we have." Quwrof was not even breathing hard, much to Curarpikt's irritation. He suddenly realized that the man was also not expending any unnecessary energy. Curarpikt was not fighting with wasted effort, but he was definitely being forced to move a lot more. Mostly due to the man's experience.

Curarpikt had not been expecting to win, but he was definitely surprised by how capable the man was in a fight. And he was a little miffed to realize that his height, or lack of, was a disadvantage in hand-to-hand combat.

He needed a weapon that would give him more reach.

The man landed a kick with his long legs, and Curarpikt stumbled to the side.

Yes, if he intended to make this kind of training a regular thing, he definitely needed a weapon.

And… he needed to not let his mind get distracted in the middle of a fight…

Curarpikt landed hard on his back with Quwrof on top of him, completely caught off guard. The man's hands slammed down on either side of the boy's face, preventing a painful face-to-face collision, then he dropped onto his elbows, chest pressing down on the blond's and forcing more air out of his lungs.

It took a moment for Curarpikt to regain his breath. When he did, Quwrof was still lying on top of him, smiling oddly. The man hadn't moved his elbows, so his face was still mere inches from Curarpikt's.

"...What?" the boy asked, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

The man blinked twice. His smile morphed into something more mischievous. "Well, was it good for you?" he teased, leaning so close that his nose brushed against Curarpikt's.

"...Was it...?!" Curarpikt sputtered, shoving Quwrof off of him. The man laughed.

Quwrof walked a few yards away and picked up his jacket before returning to Curarpikt. "Why don't we call it a day. We've both learned a few things about your abilities," he smiled. "Seriously, though, are you okay?" he asked, offering a hand to the boy.

Curarpikt accepted the hand grudgingly and let the man pull him up from the ground. "I'm fine. Nothing broken or cracked this time, I think," he said, wincing slightly as he slapped dirt off of bruised muscle. "I think I'm going to be stiff tomorrow, though."

Quwrof nodded. "You really are good, though," he said. "With enough practice, you might actually be able to beat me," he smiled.

The boy narrowed his eyes at the taller figure. "If you're not fighting all out, right?"

"Right," Quwrof laughed. "I haven't lost a fight in years. You've still a ways to go before you can come close to matching me."

"That's okay; I'm quite content with my current level," Curarpikt snorted. "I've no need for your level of fighting prowess." He was already slightly disturbed by how well he had managed to hold his own against a man of Quwrof's obvious skill. More fuel for thought.

Quwrof gave the boy a mysterious smile. "You never know, Curarpikt."

* * *

Curarpikt took Quwrof's suggestion and drew himself a bath. He anticipated that his muscles would be crying out in the morning. He had just turned off the running water when he heard Quwrof return to the apartment. The man had stepped out briefly, saying he had something to pick up.

The blond pulled his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. He turned slightly as he heard a knock.

"Yes?"

Quwrof stepped into the bathroom with a small paper bag. He stepped past Curarpikt and emptied the bag into the tub. The blond stared at the bits of organic matter floating in the water.

"I really hope those are herbs for my muscles, because I don't think I'd be very good as a stew," Curarpikt said with a chuckle.

"Are you sure?" the man teased, pulling back his sleeve and briefly stirring the water with his arm. He inhaled deeply and nodded, satisfied. "Alright, in you go."

"You didn't have to go out just to get that," Curarpikt said, standing by the tub and inhaling as well. The aroma was relaxing. "But thank you."

Quwrof smiled. "Least I can do, since it's my fault you're black and blue," the man said, lightly touching a dark spot below Curarpikt's shoulder blade. He kept his fingers there for a moment, gently rubbing the bruise. The action tickled and sent a chill down the boy's spine.

Curarpikt turned uncertainly, tilting his head slightly. Quwrof didn't move. Finally, the boy said hesitantly, "Um, Quwrof...?"

The man smiled warmly and said, "Enjoy your bath." He gave the blond's upper arm a quick pat and left the bathroom.

Curarpikt stood there for several moments, thoroughly befuddled, before stepping out of his pants and into the tub. The warm water felt wonderful against his bruised skin and helped ease the sore muscles. But he sat tensely, recalling the odd look Quwrof had given him at the end of their training. And now that lingering touch just now...

He sighed and sank into the water, letting his hair get soaked. He lay back and stared at the tiles. He was probably just imagining things… And there were probably more important things to be wondering about.

The thought kept lurking in the corner of his mind that he should be more curious, perhaps even concerned, about Quwrof. Yes, he had mentioned that he needed to defend himself in his line of business. But his level of expertise was beyond astonishing. And he seemed strangely accepting of "criminals."

Perhaps he was just a perfectionist and trained regularly.

Perhaps he had past business dealings with people of… questionable morals.

Curarpikt sighed and sank deeper into the tub, reminding himself again that he needed to be thinking of something more serious.

The Ryodan.

He had been unable to do research last night since his… nemeses, those two nen-users, had appeared again and harassed him. The eyebrow-less man seemed to be determined to coerce Curarpikt into a date. Or, he was simply using Curarpikt as entertainment. Regardless, it was highly annoying and beginning to truly grate on Curarpikt's nerves. He had managed to get away then, but he hated to think of what would happen if…

But, the Ryodan. Curarpikt had tried again this morning, before Quwrof managed to drag him away from civilization to spar, and he was surprised by what his research had revealed. Just as Quwrof had hinted, there were many hints and examples of the group's altruistic and humanitarian endeavors. They were cleverly disguised and usually not obvious, but they were indeed there.

So Quwrof had been right. But that didn't make Curarpikt feel too much better about the possibility of having been a Ryodan member. Altruistic activities or not, they were still stealing and killing. Killing members of the underworld community still did not change the fact that they were killing.

He fought the urge to groan in frustration. If he had been one of them, what did that say about him? Was he a different person then? Was that even possible? And what could he do about it, to try to find out the truth?

The truth. Even if it ended up being a painful truth, he should learn it.

And to do that… The easiest way would not be the most pleasant way, but if that man was looking for the Ryodan and had come to Sonisco, then there had to be reason for it.

Curarpikt sighed once more.

Very well. He would try to talk to that clown-man.

* * *

Quwrof found himself standing beside Curarpikt's bed, gazing down at the sleeping boy. Asleep, he looked so innocent that who could guess he had so much fight and spirit in him? And so much allure?

He had always loved a good fight. So Quwrof had been quite pleased with what the boy had been able to do. It had been both satisfying and exciting to see someone so seemingly delicate fighting with the ability and aggression of any seasoned fighter. The boy's movements had been like a dance... They drew Quwrof in, tantalized him.

So when he'd ended the fight by forcing the boy down to the ground, he'd had to momentarily fight the urge to take their activity to another level. Curarpikt's cheeks had been flushed from exertion, and his breath had come in short gasps as he'd fought to regain the wind that had been knocked out of him. Quwrof had by no means missed the fact that the boy was pretty, but until that moment, he hadn't realized just how alluring Curarpikt could be. It had been all he could do to keep himself from closing the distance between them and kissing the boy.

Which was why he was now standing above the sleeping blond, trying to determine if the attraction had been a heat-of-the-moment thing. After all, while they'd been working with the idea of having the boy fall for Quwrof, the man developing a real attraction for the enemy had not been part of the plan...

He'd seen the boy asleep plenty of times thus far. Now he regarded Curarpikt with new interest. He knelt beside the bed and scrutinized him. The boy certainly had everything that appealed to the Ryodan leader: a flawless face, intelligence, physical strength, a slender and lithe body...

_Dammit..._ Quwrof sighed. He wanted to smack himself.

No, actually, he wanted to smack the boy. Why did Curarpikt have to be exactly the type that Quwrof went for?

_You have no idea just how much trouble you're going to cause me..._

Still, this would certainly make working on the second condition much easier...

And ironically, thanks to Hyskoa, they might have just made some progress in possibly having Curarpikt join the Ryodan. Quwrof was going to have to give Syarnorke first pick at their next haul. The man's brilliance with a computer had kept the Ryodan from losing all chance of gaining Curarpikt as a member. If the blond had seen nothing but the existing reports and articles on the Ryodan's activities, it would have been impossible to convince him that the Ryodan might be anything but evil. But with Phynkss' and Heytun's delay tactics and Syarnorke's hacking, and, yes, Hyskoa's unexpected appearance, they were able to have Curarpikt learn the "truth" about the Ryodan.

It really was a good thing that Quwrof loved challenges, because things refused to be easy when it came to Curarpikt. His lips twitched, and he allowed himself to smile. He gave the sleeping blond one last lingering look before leaving the room.

* * *

Quwrof glanced at the kitchen clock as Curarpikt returned home. The boy had been gone longer than he would have expected for a run to the bakery.

"Get lost?"

The boy shook his head, sending his pale hair flying. "I was… prowling, I suppose."

"Prowling?"

Curarpikt turned a slightly self-deprecating smile towards him as he set a paper bag on the counter. "Well, it would be more accurate to say that I was trying to attract a prowler."

Quwrof couldn't help the odd look that crossed his face. "…I would swear I just heard you say that you were trying to attract a prowler."

"I did." Curarpikt tried to hide his small smile as he moved into the bedroom to shed his coat. Quwrof followed the boy into the bedroom.

"You're going to explain, I assume."

The blond hung his coat and stepped out of his shoes before walking past Quwrof and back into the main room. He sat on the sofa and looked up at Quwrof standing over him.

"That man who approached me," he began. "I want to talk to him."

"The man without the brows who keeps coming after you?"

"No. The clown."

Quwrof frowned. That was not what he wanted to hear. "Why?" he asked.

"He was searching for the Ryodan. Perhaps he has already found them."

"And?" the dark-haired man encouraged.

"I… guess I just want to meet someone from the Ryodan and see what they have to say. I don't want to base everything just on what I read after all."

Quwrof sat next to the boy. "You don't trust what you read?"

The boy looked thoughtful. "I do, to a certain point, but the written word is based on speculation, subjective thoughts, hearsay…" He sighed. "I guess I want some confirmation. And meeting with someone from the Ryodan could tell me more about myself if I was, in fact, a member."

The man nodded slowly.

"And even if the clown-man hasn't yet located the Ryodan, I'm certain that he knows me. I want to talk with him," Curarpikt said firmly.

"What if he won't tell you anything unless he gets something in return? As I recall, his interest was somewhat… sexual."

A grimace. "Yes, I remember that." He sat silently for a moment. "Well, one thing at a time. I need to find him first. Or have him find me."

"Right," Quwrof said. He stood abruptly. "One thing at a time, so let us have dinner. Hopefully, your prowling didn't give the bread a chance to cool too much."

"Don't worry. I did my prowling first, before I went to the bakery."

Curarpikt was not feeling particularly talkative during dinner, which was just as well, since Quwrof had plans that needed reorganizing.

Quwrof's eventual inevitable encounter with Hyskoa might have to come sooner than he had planned. He really did not want to worry about Hyskoa right now, but he had to prioritize. Gaining Curarpikt as a member would far outweigh the inconvenience of having to fight Hyskoa. He had been avoiding it because he was not so arrogant as to not realize that Hyskoa would be a difficult opponent – the man was definitely a more skilled fighter than most of the other Ryodan members, plus the fact that the man loved fighting more than anyone. That made him very dangerous indeed.

_Plus, he's creepy…_

But, again, Quwrof had already invested too much time in Curarpikt. He was not willing to let it all go to waste. And he was perfectly willing to admit to himself that his motives were no longer just about the Ryodan. He would not be opposed to, would welcome, in fact, a physical relationship with the blond. Quwrof was beginning to feel more strongly that it would be best, both for him and the Ryodan, if Curarpikt never regained his memories and instead became a dedicated member of the group. Nobunaga was not going to be happy about that, but he also knew, courtesy of Matiy and Syarnorke, that the swordsman might not be as hard to sway in the boy's favor as he had been in the past.

So he was going to have to locate Hyskoa before the sick bastard ran into Curarpikt again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond.

Standard disclaimers apply...

* * *

Hunt for the Intangible – Chapter 12

Curarpikt happened to glance across the store just as the tall brunette entered. The other man met his eyes, grinned, and wove his way across the aisles and to the counter. He leaned against the far end and waited for the blond to finish instructing the woman at one of the registers. Curarpikt gave the woman a final encouraging word, then, smiling, approached Syarnorke from the other side of the counter.

The older man beamed. "Hi, Curarpikt. You're looking much better than the last time I saw you."

"Yes. Thank you for taking me home that day," Curarpikt said, smile widening in response. The man's smile was contagious. "I'm glad you're here. I'd been wanting to thank you."

"No worries. And, you're welcome. How about you recommend a book for me, and we'll call it even. You did give my friend that book, after all."

"I can't let you call it even for something you get nothing out of," the blond laughed. "How about lunch? If you don't mind waiting…" he glanced at the clock, "forty minutes, we can do it today."

Syarnorke considered the offer. "Sure, why not. I have no plans today."

"Okay, then." Curarpikt stepped around the counter. "What can I help you find?"

The man grinned mischievously. "I'm looking for a gift, of sorts. I have a very short-tempered friend who blows up at everything. I want something that will make fun of him."

Curarpikt raised one pale brow. Syarnorke seemed to have rather interesting friends. "Are you sure you're his friend?" he teased. He tilted his head. "I can't believe I'm going to suggest this, but I have just the thing for your volatile friend."

* * *

Nobunaga looked at the offered paper bag suspiciously. "What the hell is this?"

"A gift for you. I thought you might find it useful."

The swordsman opened the bag and peered inside. The suspicious look did not leave his face. "It's a book."

"Very good."

Chzzk looked up from her own book. "A book? For Nobunaga? Did you bring one for me?"

Syarnorke shook his head. "Why don't you go back to Dog-Ear Books and shop for yourself? There's a very knowledgeable manager there who would happily recommend a book for you. As long as you're willing to pay for it."

Nobunaga's head snapped up. "Dog-Ear Books? Wait, that's…"

He was interrupted as the front door to the apartment opened forcefully. An irate-looking young woman stormed in, pointed a finger sharply at Syarnorke, and jabbed it into this chest.

"You!" she hissed. "Why do you keep doing this? Why did you come back to the store? If I'd known you'd want to show up so often, I would have made _you_ take that damned job! And don't tell me that you had nothing to do with the fact that Curarpikt actually took his lunch break today!"

Syarnorke held up both hands, palms facing the shorter figure. Matiy rarely became visibly angry, but when she did, it was not something any Ryodan member wanted to deal with. The woman really knew how to hold a grudge. "Now, now, Matiy, it's unlike you to get so agitated."

"Oh, don't you 'now, now' me," she snapped. "I never wanted to be stuck working in that store, but it was your brilliant idea to keep an eye on him. Which you seem to want to do anyway, which means that you should be the one wearing the apron and serving coffee!"

"Dog-Ear Books!" Nobunaga interrupted loudly. "The Chain Guy's store. What the hell were you doing there again?"

Matiy held up a hand, halting Nobunaga's advance. "Well? Why aren't you the one working there?"

Syarnorke smiled at her, unrepentant. "Dancho needs me for other duties. You know that."

"I_know,_" Matiy growled, although she calmed slightly. "That doesn't mean that you have to keep showing up. Trust me to do my job."

"I do," the man said soothingly. "But we now have Curarpikt trying to find Hyskoa. We almost unanimously agree that Curarpikt would be an asset to the Ryodan, and if that's what Dancho eventually decides on, then we can't let Curarpikt talk with Hyskoa. At least not until Dancho comes to some agreement with him to keep him from telling Curarpikt anything."

"That doesn't explain…"

Syarnorke held up one hand. "It's always good to have multiple contingency plans. If Curarpikt is busy with friends, he will have less time to go out and search for Hyskoa. That's more time for Dancho to find Hyskoa first. Dancho agrees that I should 'socialize' with Curarpikt as well and keep him busier."

Matiy raised a dubious brow.

"Dancho called me this morning shortly after you left," Syarnorke added.

"Oh." Matiy looked like she had more to say, but she frowned briefly, then shrugged. "Okay. It's not my decision. But I'm not 'hanging out' with him when you are. That's just too weird."

"Can I talk now?" Nobunaga asked, clearly annoyed at Matiy.

The young woman shrugged once more and stepped away, dodging the front door as it opened again to admit Pynkss and Heytun. Phynkss was carrying a bag that most likely held stolen goods. The swordsman turned his attention on Syarnorke, ignoring the newcomers.

"Fine, I know why you went to the store. Now tell me how you feel about the Chain Guy."

"Nobunaga," Syarnorke fought the urge to sigh, "Wberer was my _friend,_ but you know that I don't hate Curarpikt. I never have, unlike you, because I understand what is… was… driving Curarpikt. He's not that different from anyone from Ryusei City."

"Don't talk to me like I'm a fool," Nobunaga snapped. "I know that! And… I don't think I…hate…him anymore. There doesn't seem to be a reason to."

"Of course, not," Phynkss laughed. "He's the Chain Guy's knight now. He couldn't possibly hate him." He leered. "Probably even _likes_…"

The sword was out the next moment, as Syarnorke had feared it might be. He sighed. "Guys, can we not do this?" He could understand Dancho's occasional frustration with the Ryodan. Some of the members insisted on acting like children sometimes. He almost sighed again. Lunch had been such a pleasant change of pace.

Nobunaga glared at Phynkss for nearly another minute, then at Syarnorke as well for good measure, before he finally sheathed his sword. "Say something like that again, and I'll kill you," he muttered at Phynkss. He picked up the bag he had dropped and dipped his hand into it to pull out the book. He read the title. Puzzled, he flipped through the pages.

Syarnorke did a mental countdown. _3, 2, 1…_

"Why, you!!!"

Syarnorke laughed and escaped the apartment, leaving a fuming Nobunaga clutching the book _How to Light a Bomb,_ a collection of comics showing the escapades of a very short-tempered old man who kept literally blowing up as he let his anger get the best of him.

* * *

He had never gotten around to answering Nobunaga's question about how he felt about Curarpikt. He had said that he didn't hate the boy, and that was the truth. He might even like him. If he didn't already, he definitely could in the future. He was nothing like Wbererguin, who the other Ryodan members found it odd that Syarnorke had taken such a liking to. But he had liked Wberer's irreverence and child-like enthusiasm about everything.

Curarpikt was different from Wberer. Very different. The boy was serious - losing his memories of his not-so-nice past hadn't changed that – but he still had a sense of humor. A much more sophisticated one than most of the Ryodan members could appreciate, except for himself and Dancho, so Syarnorke could see why Dancho was beginning to have doubts about killing the boy. If they could make him one of them… he would be perfect. There was something about him that almost everyone in the Ryodan could like. Even Nobunaga, although he would never admit it, would probably come around eventually, since he had stopped his regular rantings about killing Curarpikt since they boy's run-in with Hyskoa. He had even agreed, very reluctantly, to maintain watch on the blond's commute.

Syarnorke had truly enjoyed his lunch with Curarpikt, as he had known he would. He had already been thinking of nurturing a "friendship" with the boy before Dancho's call, so he had agreed wholeheartedly to the man's order to do just that when he received the phone call. They had spent the lunch discussing just about everything, and as he had suspected, Curarpikt was knowledgeable in many subjects. The boy came across as just short of being an arrogant know-it-all, but Syarnorke was not one to be annoyed by someone like that. Just because he liked to be the most informed, it didn't mean that Syarnorke resented intelligence in others. He respected it and enjoyed it. Syarnorke liked to think of himself as a tolerant, accepting person (how else could he have been such good friends with the less-than-brilliant Wbererguin?), and he was okay with anyone being whoever or whatever they were.

That went for orientation as well. He, like Dancho, was perfectly happy to admire anyone worthy of admiration. And Curarpikt was definitely admiration-worthy. It would probably have to be hands-off admiration and friendship, though. Because he really wasn't into competition over someone's affections, since card games weren't the only competitions he was generally lousy at. And there was no way he could win at anything against Dancho.

Because while his luck was frequently lousy, his gut feelings were not, and Syarnorke had the definite gut feeling that Dancho wouldn't have to pretend to be attracted to Curarpikt if that's the way the scenario went…

* * *

That boy was the source of his current predicament, as he usually seemed to be. For being an unassuming person, Curarpikt kept throwing the Ryodan into unexpected situations. Quwrof was almost amused to find himself having to hunt for the last person on the planet that he would want to battle one-on-one. He had been trying to avoid fighting Hyskoa since the man's first day as a Ryodan member. It hadn't been difficult then, since all he'd had to do was remind Hyskoa of the Ryodan rule that members did not fight each other. But, Hyskoa was no longer a Spider. And his presence in Sonisco was a definite threat to Quwrof's continuously fluctuating plan for the last surviving Kuruta. So, here he sat, in the middle of winter, at an outdoor table in a café, broadcasting his presence.

Abruptly, he recalled Curarpikt's words, "trying to attract a prowler," and chuckled softly.

Who would have thought that the infamous leader of the Genei Ryodan would be using himself as prey to attract the attention of a battle-crazy pervert?

He'd had no luck all day, though, which led him to the conclusion that Hyskoa might have left the city, or he was coming up with some bizarre plan. One could never tell with that man; the only predictable thing about Hyskoa was his absolute unpredictability.

Curarpikt would be finishing up his shift and heading home soon. Quwrof smiled into his cup of espresso. The boy would be appalled if he knew that Nobunaga was now his bodyguard, assigned to "escort" him to and from work. The swordsman had protested vehemently at first and had demanded that Phynkss or Heytun be given that task, until Syarnorke casually mentioned that Phynkss following Curarpikt wasn't much different from Hyskoa in terms of perversion (never mind the fact that Phynkss really was one hundred percent heterosexual), and that Heytun would absolutely refuse to "babysit" the Chain Guy unless Phynkss was there to entertain him. The implied threat to Curarpikt's virtue was enough to get Nobunaga to agree to the assignment, since despite his short temper and heartless killing, he didn't simply carry the sword as a weapon – he also carried with it, surprisingly, the honor that swordsmen had lived by for centuries. Twisted it might be, but Nobunaga definitely had his own sense of honor.

It would serve Quwrof well, since familiarity made Nobunaga less hostile. This was apparent in the man's continuing push to get Curarpikt's little friends to join the Ryodan. He had taken a definite liking to both of those boys, especially to the dark-haired one. Syarnorke had later told Quwrof that the boy had shown no fear and had talked back to the swordsman. And so Nobunaga had decided that he liked the fearless child and wanted him in the Ryodan. And it was apparent that the one would not do anything without the other, so why not have both boys join? Quwrof hoped that it wouldn't take long for the man to develop an acceptance of Curarpikt as well, since it was becoming less likely that he would want to have the blond's memory returned so that they could kill him. His newly acknowledged attraction to him was secondary; what mattered was the fact that Curarpikt really would be a tremendous asset if they could get him to join willingly, and perhaps hide from him the lesser activities of the Genei Ryodan. Nobunaga got along surprisingly well with Matiy, despite the fact that they argued frequently. Perhaps he and Curarpikt could have a similar relationship, since the boy could easily display the same sort of sharpness Matiy had when provoked…

Well, only time would tell.

Quwrof stood, left a tip for the waitperson, and headed for his temporary home.

* * *

Nobunaga was finally sympathizing – and empathizing – with Matiy. Dancho and Syarnorke had to be taking some sort of sick pleasure in assigning specific jobs to the ones least likely to enjoy them. Give the job of being friendly and helpful to the prickliest member, and give the job of "guarding" the Chain Guy to the one who most wanted him dead.

Well, maybe not so dead anymore… Maybe just severely injured. Or…

The man shook his head forcibly and growled in frustration. How had this happened? Why couldn't he bring up that same rage and killing lust? It was… muted now.

He looked down the street to the thin figure several blocks away. It seemed silly to be keeping an eye on him when his commute was a mere ten minutes or so, but he had to agree that a lot of grief could be spared if Hyskoa was kept from talking with Curarpikt again. And from molesting the boy again, because that was the only reason he had agreed to the ridiculous assignment. No one should have to face the perverted interest of that traitorous bastard. Not even his enemy. Any such encounter would just be disturbing beyond words.

His absolute distaste for such a situation was probably partly related to Matiy's intense dislike of Hyskoa. Yes, she could be a pain in his side, but she was a bit like a younger sister. And that meant he had often wanted to protect her from that bastard's lascivious attentions. Not that Matiy had ever needed protection, of course, but he couldn't help wanting to keep Hyskoa's hands off of her.

So, yeah, that was why he was stuck doing this damned job. Because he was a noble and honorable… killer. Yeah, that's right.

And so far, nothing had happened. Not in the morning, and not now. But that didn't mean that he should let himself slack and let his mind wander.

Like it just had been… Shit!

Nobunaga hastily scanned the length of the street ahead of him, but there was no sign of the blond.

_Where the hell did he go?_

He picked up his pace. He would have to be much closer for his _en_ to pick up the boy's presence. Dancho would kill him if…

He stopped abruptly, feeling extremely foolish. The Chain Guy was stepping out of a small drug store. Nobunaga began walking again, his pace returning to its original casual gait. He glared at the blond's back, resenting being put in this situation.

_Damned brat. I could be doing… okay, nothing much… but at least I wouldn't be tailing a stupid kid and getting panicked for no reason…_

Brat. Kid. Nobunaga wondered how old the Chain Guy actually was. He had seemed older in Phalc's memories. But here, he really did seem like a harmless kid, as he had told the others. He couldn't be much older than those two boys – what were there names? Gon and Killua? – and he would guess at least Gon of being no older than twelve. The other boy looked older, probably because he seemed much more ruthless, but he still couldn't have been more than thirteen. Which would make the Chain Guy no more than sixteen or seventeen.

Too young for Hyskoa, Nobunaga thought firmly.

He sighed. _Okay, so I'll just have to keep guarding the kid's commute._

He really hoped that Dancho would settle things with that bastard soon. He would likely think himself to death before long. And…

_Oh, shit._

The blond had disappeared from sight again as a crowd jay-walked to their side of the street, placing themselves between Nobunaga and his target. After several frustrating moments of trying to get around the confused crowd, he briefly risked _en_, assuming that while nen-trained, the Chain Guy wouldn't be in the habit of walking around in a _ten_ state and wouldn't notice him. Nobunaga sensed the boy… behind him?

_Definitely, oh, shit._

"Hi."

Nobunaga ignored the voice, refusing to turn around. Maybe he was greeting someone else. He could hope, right?

"You're the man who… helped me the other day, right?" the quiet voice asked again, and a hand rested lightly on his right arm.

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_

With a sigh, the swordsman stopped walking and turned to face the boy who must have been mingled in that damned crowd.

"…uh…hi, kid."

"Hi," the blond repeated, then quirked a brow at him. "Why have you been following me?"

_Nobunaga, you're an incompetent idiot._

He could just imagine the look on Matiy's face.

"I…uh…" He could feel the blush forming on his cheeks. Damnit, he was acting like a stupid teenager! "I wasn't. You were behind _me,"_he tried.

The Chain Guy smiled. "Only until that crowd swallowed me. You've been following me since the bookstore. And I think you might have been following me this morning, too."

Nobunaga managed to not look impressed. But he secretly was. "New" to nen, and the kid already had his sense that fine-tuned? He really would be good someday. He narrowed his eyes and tried to look suspicious. "And how would you know if I've been following you?"

This time, the kid chuckled. "The same way you tried to confirm my location. You're hard to miss since you're obviously quite powerful."

Damned Dancho for instructing the damned Chain Guy in damned nen…

"But I don't think you mean me any harm…?" The kid trailed off and let it become a question. But he looked ready to jump back if he needed to.

The swordsman shook his head firmly. "No, kid, I wasn't planning on doing anything to you."

"Which brings me back to my original question," the blond said, smiling, but there was a sternness to the smile now.

Nobunaga scratched his head, then his beard, trying to buy time. "I was… you see, I…" He really wasn't the creative one. He couldn't be expected to come up with a lie believable to a smart kid like the Chain Guy…

Looks like he had no choice but the truth.

"Okay, so I was just following to make sure you would be okay. From that creep who harassed you."

"You seem quite determined. You did, after all, find out what my shift hours are. And where I live," the Chain Guy said, still smiling, but it lacked warmth. "Would there be a reason why you think it's so important that I be protected from that man?"

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_

"You know that man, don't you?"

…_I really need a stronger word._

* * *

**A word from Mist: **This fic is getting away from me; it's no longer following the originally charted course, and I'm fighting desperately to still get it to where I want it to end. I think this is currently Hyskoa's fault, since I hadn't decided to include him until I was three or four chapters in. Although part of the blame goes to Nobunaga, too, since he's being a lot more tolerant of Curarpikt than he was originally supposed to be, too. I may end up posting a few of my potential plot directions on my LJ and take a poll to see which way to go since I'm at a rather annoying crossroads with too many branches. Keep an eye on my LJ. Haven't decided for certain yet. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond.

Standard disclaimers apply...

* * *

**Hunt for the Intangible – Chapter 13**

Nobunaga fought the urge to swear out loud and fumbled for words instead. "Uh… yeah, you're right. I know the bastard."

The blond waited, manner surprisingly patient. But Nobunaga could definitely sense the kid's tension.

"He, uh… wouldn't leave a friend of mine alone. The bastard can be real persistent. I didn't think he'd give up on you so easily…"

The kid furrowed his brows. "Surely the law has dealt with him for harassing your friend. Wouldn't he have learned his lesson?"

Nobunaga grimaced. "Look, you've met him. And you obviously know about nen. The law won't touch him because he's so damned strong." How it irked Nobunaga to be talking up that bastard's abilities. Although, really, that ass really was just that strong…

"Won't touch him…?"

"Yeah, not a single law enforcement agency, not even after he…" He struggled to get the word out, but the story had to be good and believable, and it had to make the kid agree to be… escorted.

"Not even after he what?" the blond encouraged, but his manner was almost somber.

"He…" Nobunaga could feel his face reddening. "He… you know… took her… uh, took advantage of her… uh, forced her…"

The blond frowned fiercely. "Are you trying to say that he raped her?"

"Uh… yeah," Nobunaga muttered. "More than once," he added for good measure.

The flash of anger wasn't too much of a surprise, but the change following it was. Nobunaga's eyes widened as the kid's eyes flashed crimson for a moment, a very brief moment. Abruptly, the blond squeezed his eyes closed and clutched at his head with both hands, gasping in pain. He wavered on his legs, and Nobunaga had to reluctantly catch him as he fell.

The kid kept one hand on his head, but used the other to clutch the front of Nobunaga's robe. His eyes stayed tightly shut.

Nobunaga eyed the passing crowd, glaring at anyone who stared for too long. This definitely did not look good. How did he end up standing in the middle of the sidewalk with his arms around the damned brat? Finally, after what was too long a time, the tense figure in his arms relaxed slightly.

"I'm… sorry," the kid rasped. He pushed away and stepped back as Nobunaga released him. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. His eyes were back to their normal hazel color.

"…you okay?"

"I… Yes, I'm okay. Thank you," the blond responded distractedly.

The swordsman gave the kid a doubtful look. Had he even realized what had just happened? Nobunaga decided that it would be best to not mention, in case he hadn't.

The blond visibly pulled himself together. "Thank you," he repeated, more focused. "And for telling me about that man. I appreciate your concern, and I guess I can better understand it now, but I can't have you escorting me to and from work. Surely, you have better things to be doing?"

Nobunaga grinned wryly. Hadn't he just been asking himself that very same question? "Well…" he said, waving his arms absently. "Look, just humor me, kid. Let me do this for a while until I decide that the bastard has given up on you."

The blond frowned slightly. "I'm not happy about it. But I can't stop you if you're going to… insist."

Nobunaga almost laughed as the kid obviously edited himself before saying "going to be stubborn." His next words wiped away all thoughts of laughter, though.

"So you might as well walk with me instead of lurking behind me," the blond smiled resignedly. He gestured with one hand. "Shall we?"

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

He really was going to kill Syarnorke. And he was going to make a damned good effort at killing Dancho.

Nobunaga reluctantly fell into step beside the much shorter figure, body slouched and turned away from the kid in an attempt to look like they weren't walking together. It didn't help, though, since the brat decided they needed to have a conversation.

"You said your name was Nobunaga, right?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

"Do you mind if I ask why you carry a sword?"

Nobunaga glanced at the long, wrapped bundle he carried with him. "Huh? How did you … Oh." Right, he had pulled it out the time he'd stopped that bastard from molesting the kid. "It's… uh… a family heirloom. Belonged to my great, great, great grandfather."

"That's wonderful that you show pride in and respect for your ancestors," the kid said, his smile almost melancholy. He looked up at Nobunaga, his expression becoming sharper. "Clearly, you know how to wield it."

"Uh… yeah, no point in carrying it around if I can't use it."

"Do you make it a habit of hunting down undesirables?"

"What? No, no, I'm not like a… vigilante or something." Actually, he was more likely to be sought by the vigilante type. Like a certain Black List Hunter brat.

The blond nodded slightly, then looked away and down the street once more. Nobunaga sighed, hoping that the conversation was over. None such luck.

"So, what do you do for a living? When you're not escorting book store managers home?" the kid asked, a slight smile on his lips.

Nobunaga's mind drew a brief blank.

_Shit!_

He skimmed the stores on the other side of the street. There was a candidate. "Plants!" he exclaimed.

"…What?"

_Idiot!_ "I'm a gardener," Nobunaga said.

The smile widened and became more genuine. "That's great! I've been thinking of getting some plants for my apartment. Maybe you could recommend something that would be low maintenance but is still attractive? Preferably not too large?"

…_Shit…_

* * *

To Quwrof's shrewd eye, Curarpikt appeared subdued as he stepped into the apartment, even though he seemed to be trying to hide it. Quwrof watched him from the sofa as the boy smiled in greeting, then moved into the bedroom to shed his coat. He returned a few minutes later, forehead slightly furrowed.

"Headache?" Quwrof inquired.

The blond's steps slowed for a moment. "Yes," he sighed, apparently giving up on his act that everything was fine.

Quwrof stood and followed Curarpikt into the kitchen, pulling dinner out of the bag on the counter as the blond poured himself some water. Curarpikt's nen seemed somewhat erratic.

"Rough day at work?"

The blond started to shake his head, then grimaced. "No, no more than usual. This hit me suddenly on the way home."

"Hm. Don't tell me you're sick again."

"I hope not!" he exclaimed in alarm. He paused, looking as if he had more to say. He opened his mouth, then shut it quickly.

Quwrof regarded the boy thoughtfully. "Curarpikt," he began. He was interrupted as his phone rang. Smiling an apology at the boy, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and stepped out onto the balcony.

"What is it?"

"Dancho," said Nobunaga's voice, "something weird happened. With the kid. You know, when I was… you know."

"Get to the point, Nobunaga."

"Yeah, uh, his eyes turned red."

Quwrof frowned and waited for the other man to elaborate.

"You're not surprised?" Nobunaga sounded disappointed.

"Yes, I am, but I was waiting for details." He also found himself uncertain as to how he felt about it.

"Oh, right. Uh, I'm not sure what caused it, but they turned red suddenly, and then the kid started clutching his head like he was in serious pain."

Quwrof's frown deepened. "You have absolutely no idea what caused it? What was he doing at the time?"

The other man hesitated before saying, "Well, uh, see, I was telling him…"  
"Just a moment. You were speaking with him?"

"Hey, it's not my fault the kid sensed me trailing him! You're the one who's been training him and…"

"Never mind," Quwrof snapped. "Just tell me how the conversation with him went."

After some hesitation and additional insistence that it wasn't his fault, Quwrof finally told the other man to put Syarnorke on the phone.

"Yes, Dancho?" The man sounded amused.

"Have you already gotten the story out of Nobunaga?"

"Yes, Dancho."

"Give me the summary, and tell me if damage control is necessary," Quwrof sighed.

Syarnorke chuckled. "We were actually impressed. We didn't know Nobunaga had it in him to be spontaneously creative." An outraged shout erupted in the background. "It doesn't sound like damage control will be necessary."

"That's good to know. Now tell me what happened," Quwrof said, trying to remain patient.

To Syarnorke, though, his irritation was apparent. Stifling another chuckle, the man gave Quwrof the story of Nobunaga's unexpected interaction with the Chain Guy. Hearing Syarnorke's summary, Quwrof was relieved and reassured. It could have gone horribly wrong.

He stepped back into the small apartment and found that Curarpikt had gotten dinner out on the table and was seated there, eyes closed and head leaned against the wall. Quwrof joined him at the table and regarded the boy thoughtfully. Sensing the scrutiny, Curarpikt opened his eyes and returned the man's gaze.

"I wasn't sure if that sauce is supposed to be served heated or not," he murmured, nodding towards a small bowl.

Quwrof's eyes flicked briefly to the bowl before returning to the boy's face. "It's better heated," he responded, but held out a hand when the boy reached for the bowl. "I'll do it. You really don't look so good."

Curarpikt chewed on his lower lip. "I'm okay. It's not so much the headache, but…" he trailed off.

The man stood with bowl in hand. "Whatever it is, you're most likely to feel better if you tell me about it."

"I know," the boy sighed. "And I appreciate your willingness to listen. I was just having trouble processing it myself…"

That was unexpected. Quwrof wouldn't have thought that the boy would be so clearly upset by what Nobunaga had told him, since Nobunaga was certain that Curarpikt had been unaware of what had happened with his eyes. Surely, even an amnesiac, and a surprisingly straight-laced teenage amnesiac, would be aware of the harsher realities of the world. Especially after his encounters with Phynkss… Which meant that there had to be more than just a headache.

"Did you have another unpleasant encounter on your way home?" he asked after several moments of silence, hoping to give the boy a convenient way to ease into his story.

"No, I…" Curarpikt paused and chuckled. "Actually, I saw that man again. The topknot man I told you about. He has apparently decided to be my bodyguard since that man he chased away, the clown man, has a history of assaulting people."

"From what you told me about your encounter with him, I'm going to assume his past 'assaults' have been sexual in nature."

The blond nodded, unable to hide the grimace. "Nobunaga, that's the topknot man, told me that the clown man… raped a friend of his."

Quwrof returned to the table with the heated sauce. "And you're frightened now."

"No," Curarpikt shook his head. "I'm angry. I was furious when he told me. The man is running around free because he's such a strong nen-user. It's not right to use power in that way!"

The boy's eyes did not turn red this time. However, his anger was still easily apparent, radiating off of him in waves, and Quwrof could see how the boy's initial unexpected flash of uncontrolled anger might have triggered the Eyes. And that, in turn, had given him an excruciating headache.

And what else? What had him so distracted? Quwrof had his suspicions.

"No, it's not, but the world isn't made up of only good-intentioned people, Curarpikt."

"I know," the blond said, frustrated. He stabbed at the food he had dished out onto his plate.

"Curarpikt," Quwrof reached across the table and placed a hand on the one the boy had clutched around his fork. "What is bothering you so much?"

"I… I remembered something." Curarpikt finally said and looked up into Quwrof's eyes. His own were haunted. "From before being here in Sonisco."

Which was exactly what he had suspected. And feared. "And?"

"It… it wasn't good. Quwrof, if it was a real memory, I might be exactly what I had been afraid of."

Quwrof felt the first stirrings of mild alarm. "Which is?"

"A… a criminal of some sort. Possibly worse." He chewed on his lower lip. "No, most definitely worse."

"What did you remember?"

Curarpikt looked away and said, "It was more like… I saw images. No sound, though."

Yes, he was definitely beginning to feel slightly alarmed. "What did you see?" he pressed.

"I saw… a man. He was saying something to me… then… he was dead."

It would be bad if he remembered the slaughter of his people. Granted, there was no way that the boy had been there, or he would have died five, or was it six, years ago. But Quwrof was absolutely certain that the boy had seen the aftermath, since that woman had said that Curarpikt had suffered from horrible nightmares. That, and the fact that he had decided to get rid of his worst memories.

"Do you… remember the man?"

"No," the blond shook his head. "But I don't think that we were on good terms."

Which meant that the man was someone the boy had had a conflict with. And who was now dead.

Quwrof lifted a loose fist to his lips and frowned.

"What makes you say that?"

"We fought. That, I'm certain of." Curarpikt let his eyes return to Quwrof's. "It was in a desolate area. Then he was dead. In that same place, which means his death had to have happened during our fight…"

The Ryodan leader lowered his eyes and let himself remember.

_Wbererguin._

* * *

Quwrof sat on a bench at the edge of the beach and watched the lone figure out near the waves. The blond had refused to give up his nightly walk, even with the knowledge that he might be targeted by "the clown man" again, so Quwrof had insisted on joining him again. He would have accompanied the boy regardless, even in secret if necessary, since Hyskoa was still unaccounted for.

He wanted to be irritated with Nobunaga for letting himself be detected by Curarpikt, but in retrospect, it was a good thing.

Yes, things had just become much more complicated. But then, there had always been variables, and he should have probably considered that the boy's Crimson Eyes would be an unknown as well. This was not something that memory thief could have accounted for when determining his ability. And now, Quwrof had to decide what to do with the possible ramifications.

The glimpses Curarpikt had seen of his past were not ideal. What would happen if he saw Quwrof in those memories? Or the others. Had he, at any time in Yorkshin, seen any of the others?

His eyes widened abruptly. The dead bodies. The body doubles that Colhtophy had created. Curarpikt had been a bodyguard for the Nostrads. Even if Syarnorke had been able to manipulate the information right before Curarpikt had researched the Ryodan and kept him from seeing the photos two days ago, the boy would have most likely seen the actual bodies that night months ago, not just the photos that later appeared on the news and the Net.

Much more complicated…

Rage seemed to be the trigger for the Eyes. Abrupt, unchecked rage. And the Crimson Eyes triggered a return of memories. So it was even more crucial now that Hyskoa not come into contact with the boy another time. There was no telling what Curarpikt would remember next.

They were running out of time. He needed to make a final decision concerning the boy's fate.

* * *

Curarpikt stared out at the waves, willing them to bring him the sense of calm they had on other nights. He wondered if he had lived near the sea before all of this. That really did not narrow down the places he could have come from.

And his memory had not taken place near an ocean. It had taken place in a desolate, arid land, on a night much like this, with the moon large and pale in the pitch-black sky.

The memory had been of mere fractions of seconds, flashes that invaded his mind with painful force. They had pounded into his skull and nearly left him gasping on his knees. And they had left him with fear and doubt.

Dust settling from a fast and furious fight.

Warm blood splattering against his cheek.

A face, cocky and fearless, taunting him.

The same face, dead eyes open to the night sky.

What had he done in the past? Who was that man? Had he killed him? How? And for what purpose? Was the man the criminal? Or was he the one?

Why had he chosen to lose his memory?

What was he running from?

Curarpikt let his head drop against his knees and clasped his hands together to keep them from tearing at his hair. Now that he had those bits of memory, he needed to know. He had to know if he had killed a man. But then what? He didn't even know who the man was.

A killer.

Regardless of motive, killing was killing. And what would he do if he learned that his motive for killing had not been selfless at all?

"Curarpikt."

He didn't respond. He wanted to just… walk into the sea and disappear. He didn't know if he was strong enough to learn the truth. Having had these snatches of memory unexpectedly returned to him, he was afraid. Was he going to continue remembering equally horrifying events? His past self had been right when he'd warned himself to not seek the past.

This was not a past he wanted.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he finally looked up, letting his eyes stare out at the waves again.

"You're not going to find any answers like this. Let's go home. There's no point in letting yourself get chilled."

He sighed and let Quwrof take his hand and pull him up. He looked up at the older man, fighting a frown.

"I'm going to have to ask you again, you know."

The man smiled gently. "And I'm going to say the same thing as well. I'm not leaving you, especially when you're being like this."

"Being like…"

"And. You are not a bad person. I still refuse to believe that."

"Quwrof…"

"Stop. There is nothing to be gained by beating yourself up over this. We're going home, I'm drawing you a bath, you're going to take a long soak, then you're going to bed. Things will look better in the morning."

Curarpikt furrowed his brows. "I don't know how you can be so optimistic. The things from my memory…"

"…are not necessarily from your memory at all. There is no proof that what you saw were real events. Now, let's go," Quwrof said firmly.

Curarpikt hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. Quwrof was right about one thing. He would gain nothing by worrying. For now, he would pretend he had seen nothing. If he had more "flashbacks," or whatever they were, and they were again violent, he would try to see then what the images might mean.

* * *

Several options were available now. One, keep him from remembering and eventually get him to join the Ryodan. Two, have him join the Ryodan, and if he remembers later, coerce him into staying, with a few convenient reminders of his involvement with the most notorious criminal group on the planet. Three, same as two, but if he remembers, kill him. Four, forget about getting him into the Ryodan and just let Curarpikt remember, then kill him. Five, let Hyskoa have him and eventually kill him. Six, leave Sonisco and forget about Curarpikt… but that wasn't much different from option five. Seven, just kill Curarpikt now, and don't bother trying to get him to remember.

Options One and Two would be interesting, complicated, whatever, with One keeping Ryodan members on their toes the whole time. Option One also meant making certain that Curarpikt was never angered. Options Three through Seven would have some opposition from some Ryodan members.

Because some of them no longer wanted the Chain Guy dead.

Actually, probably more like most of them.

Syarnorke would have killed the boy himself at one point had the opportunity presented itself, since he had been good friends with Wberer, but it would have been more for the principle, and not because of any hatred. He had never hated the boy, and now it seemed impossible that he ever would.

He sighed and let his eyes roam around the room. Matiy was watching some mindless program on TV. She would deny it if asked, but Syarnorke had the feeling that she liked the boy. Curarpikt was so unlike anyone Matiy had spent any length of time with, and Syarnorke would swear that she enjoyed the refreshing change.

Chzzk was reading, as usual. She had very little interest in anything outside of the covers of a book, and it would be the same with Curarpikt. She was mostly indifferent to the whole situation and would agree with whatever decision was reached. But she had seemed to greatly enjoy the book that Curarpikt had given her.

Phynkss and Heytun were out causing discreet mischief, if that were even possible for them, but Syarnorke could tell that the former had taken a liking to Curarpikt as well. Phynkss seemed to find the boy amusing and had a bit of respect for his… spunk. And Heytun, well, he would follow the rules, but he always felt that killing was the best way. After a good dose of torture first, of course.

The members who had returned home would agree to whatever decision was made, especially since they hadn't seemed to have any strong desire to kill the boy in the first place.

Which left the one who did have that strong desire. Strong _former_ desire.

Syarnorke smiled. Nobunaga would come along. He liked strong kids with attitude, and Curarpikt could definitely show attitude. And the man, despite his complaining, had agreed to "protect" the boy from Hyskoa. Whom he definitely still hated with a vengeance. In fact, Nobunaga would probably vehemently disagree with option Five.

Actually, so would Matiy.

Of course, all of this musing was with the assumption that they were not going to kill Curarpikt.

Which was seeming more and more likely the more Syarnorke thought about it.

He looked up as Nobunaga entered the apartment. Syarnorke hadn't even noticed that the man had left. The tall man approached Syarnorke, his manner sheepish. He stopped and looked down. Syarnorke remained seated on the floor but leaned back so he could look into Nobunaga's face.

"What? What is it, Nobunaga?"

"I… need a favor."

Syarnorke grinned up at the other man. "Sure. What do you need?"

The taller man was clearly struggling with his words. "Uh… well, you know, the kid… uh…"

"Yes?" the blond encouraged.

Nobunaga turned away, muttering, "Never mind. …No, uh…" He turned back, fists clenched. "Damnit, how do these things keep…"

"What is it, Nobunaga?" Syarnorke repeated.

The man took a deep breath, then blurted out, "Plants! What do you know about plants?"

Syarnorke stared at him blankly. Some days, he just didn't understand the other Ryodan members at all.


	14. Chapter 14

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond.

Also, you might want to read my side fic "Flowers For…?" which takes place right before this chapter.

Standard disclaimers apply...

* * *

**Hunt for the Intangible – Chapter 14**

A tall man dressed in a tailored suit stepped away from the sidewalk and stood before Quwrof's table. His normally wildly-styled hair was brushed down smoothly, and his handsome face was unmarked. He looked a different man without the symbols on his cheeks, but there was no mistaking the aura.

"I understand that you've been searching for me."

Quwrof set aside the newspaper and smiled pleasantly at the taller man. "Yes, I have. How kind of you to save me the trouble of having to continue looking for you." He gestured towards the empty seat across from him, and the other man sat gracefully, making eye contact with one of the waitresses.

"You were advertising yourself quite blatantly," Hyskoa laughed delightedly. "Does this mean that you're ready for a round or two with me?"

"I have always been ready," Quwof returned. "It was more a matter of being willing."

In all honesty, he was still not willing, but dealing with the crazy man was preferable to losing complete control of the situation with Curarpikt by letting Hyskoa tell the boy everything.

They were interrupted as a young woman approached. "What would you like, sir?"

"I'll have an espresso. With a twist of lemon and sugar on the side. Rock sugar, if you have it."

A surprisingly simple order from a normally ridiculously flamboyant man – although, if Quwrof thought about it, the very specific nature of it ("twist of lemon" and "rock sugar") was very… Hyskoa.

The woman nodded, apparently used to finicky customers, and left.

Hyskoa turned his attention back to Quwrof, his smile very pleased. "So you are now willing."

Quwrof grinned wryly. "I wouldn't go that far. Let's just say that I need an exchange of… favors."

"You fight me, and I do something for you." Hyskoa waved both hands dramatically. "And I suppose I'm correct in assuming that this has something to do with our lovely blond friend."

The dark-haired man nodded. "I will give you your fight, but you must stay away from Curarpikt."

"Mmmm," Hyskoa licked his lips slowly. "You're asking for a lot, Quwrof. He is high on my list of tempting fruits that I'm allowing to ripen."

"I'm not forbidding you from fighting him some day. Just not now, or any time soon."

Hyskoa laughed loudly. "You can't forbid me from doing anything, _Dancho,_" he said mockingly. "But I might consider it a friendly suggestion and be willing to go by it."

"In exchange for?" Quwrof asked, barely restraining the sigh that wanted to escape.

"You telling me what is going on in that pretty blond head of his. Or not going on," he added meaningfully.

The Ryodan leader had been expecting this. "He is temporarily without his memory."

"I've figured that out on my own," Hyskoa snorted uncharacteristically. "Nen?"

"He still has the use of it, but only just recently."

"No, I meant his memory loss. Nen-related?"

"Yes."

Hyskoa smiled again. Quwrof idly thought that the man should not be allowed to smile – it was always unnerving, even when toned down for the general public. "So what interest does the Ryodan have in Curarpikt's memory? Why so intent on keeping me away?"

Quwrof shook his head. "That will not be part of our agreement. I will fight you as long as you stay away from Curarpikt until I give you permission to approach him."

The other man regarded him in a calculating manner.

"But you see, Quwrof, I think I want to know what you're up to more than I want a fight with you right now. And besides," his expression turned predatory, "I don't think it would be that hard to convince you to fight me, even without an agreement between us."

The dark-haired man pursed his lips. "Hyskoa, I have most of the Ryodan here. Even _you_ could not hope to survive a battle against so many of us at once."

"Are you sure of that?" Hyskoa asked, a gleam in his eye.

Quwrof gave the former – no, fake – Ryodan member an assessing look. Hyskoa certainly would be crazy enough to battle all of them at once, laughing maniacally the whole time and thorougly enjoying himself. But, no, Quwrof knew the strength of those beneath him. They might not manage alone (although if he hinted at that, he'd have several very angry Ryodan members to deal with), but any two of them together would easily defeat Hyskoa, no matter how powerful the man was.

"Oh, fine. Keep your secrets. But the permission can't be put off indefinitely. I want a deadline," Hyskoa said firmly.

The dark-haired man sighed. It was, while not what he would want, a reasonable request. "Very well. One year."

"One year?" The man considered the offer. "No. Six months."

Quwrof nodded. He hadn't expected Hyskoa to accept one year, especially since he was clearly curious about what was going on between the boy and the Ryodan. "Very well. Six months."

"Good. It will give him time to ripen some more. But I want _our_ fight sooner than that. Within the week."

Quwrof sighed again, more sincerely this time. He would prefer to put off _this_ condition indefinitely. "Two weeks." He would like to know what he was going to do about Curarpikt first. "And it will have to be when Curarpikt is at work."

"That's fine. I have no other commitments for now," Hyskoa grinned. "I'll find you in two weeks."

"No, I'll meet you in two weeks. There's a perfect location a short drive from the city," the dark-haired man said, quickly writing on Hyskoa's unused napkin. It was the same place he had sparred with Curarpikt. "Meet me here. Mid-morning."

Hyskoa accepted the map and tucked it into a pocket. "In two weeks, then," he said with a wide smile, then stood, bowed with a flourish, and walked away laughing.

Quwrof watched the man leave, the eerie laugh lingering in his head even after Hyskoa was out of sight. He sighed heavily, set his payment on the bill, and left the small café in the opposite direction of Hyskoa.

No more stalling. It was time for him, and for the Ryodan, to make a decision.

* * *

"Here."

The boy stared at the crumpled piece of paper thrust at him. He took it, looking up at the man curiously before smoothing the sheet and reading its contents.

"Oh." He looked up at Nobunaga again and smiled. "Thank you. I hope you didn't go to any trouble."

The man fought the urge to growl about annoying salespeople and colleagues - _damned Syarnorke and Quwrof _– and gave the boy a weak smile instead. "Ah, no problem."

He watched as the boy carefully folded the sheet and tucked it into his coat pocket. "Are all of these available right now?"

Nobunaga felt an odd spark of pride as he said, "Yeah, I made sure to list things you can go out and buy now." He'd gone through hell, after all, to get a crash course in plants. At the same time, he fought panic at the thought of the boy asking him questions he couldn't answer.

"Thank you," Curarpikt said instead, and Nobunaga nearly sighed in relief.

They continued walking.

"I stopped by a gardening shop yesterday, actually," Curarpikt admitted.

_I know, damnit!_ It was just his ridiculous luck that the brat would walk into the shop just when he was doing reconnoissance.

"I enjoy my job, but I think I would've liked working in a gardening shop as well," the boy commented with a smile.

Nobunaga grunted in response.

They walked in silence for a minute, then the blond broke it with, "Have you seen or heard anything about that man?"

"…What man?"

Curarpikt said almost exasperatedly, "The man you're 'guarding' me from." He paused and tilted his head slightly. "What's his name?"

"…His name?"

"You know it, right?"

Nobunaga grimaced. "Um, yeah," he admitted. Damn Syarnorke for being right about him not being able to tell a lie to save his life. He let several yards go by before giving in to the expectant silence with, "Yeah, I know it. Why?"

"Just curious," the boy responded. "It's easier to refer to him by name than to keep calling him 'that man' or 'that man who harassed me" or 'that clown.' …That one just sounds like I'm being insulting, and I'd rather not people think that I couldn't come up with something more sophisticated than that.," he chuckled.

"Hm." Despite lingering doubts that it might not be a good idea, Nobunaga said, "His name's Hyskoa." It would have been unnatural to not answer at this point.

"No last name?"

"What do you need a last name for? I thought you just wanted his name to make it easier to… talk about him."

"True," Curarpikt nodded. "Just curious," he repeated.

"Don't tell me you're planning on looking for him, kid," Nobunaga growled. He was quickly regretting having told the brat Hyskoa's name.

"Okay, I won't tell you that." _Smug brat!_

"Kid, you're _not_ hunting for him! You're just a book store manager!" Never mind that the kid could kick the asses of an awful lot of people, since Nobunaga wasn't supposed to know that. "He'd chew you up and spit you out!" Or, more likely, force him to fight, then do… unspeakable things to him.

The boy stopped, forcing Nobunaga to halt his steps as well. Nobunaga tried to adjust his features so that he looked less panicked and more concerned. The blond regarded him for a long moment, looking like he wanted to say something, then he sighed.

"Okay, I won't."

"You swear," Nobunaga insisted.

"I swear," Curarpikt said with another sigh. "But you can't keep _him_ from hunting for me, if, in fact, he really is still interested in me." He could understand the kid's doubt since it had been several days since Hyskoa had stalked Curarpikt. Of course, Curarpikt didn't know what the Ryodan knew – that he and Hyskoa were previous acquaintances, and so Hyskoa wasn't going to give up on him that quickly.

"I know," Nobunaga growled, "but I can damned well try!"

The boy stared at him, perhaps shocked by the vehemence. Then, he abruptly smiled. "You're a good person, Nobunaga."

With that astonishing statement, the boy resumed walking, leaving Nobunaga too stunned to follow immediately.

* * *

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" Weirna, the perpetual busybody matchmaker asked.

"Not really. I'm not into the party scene," Matiy responded. She cringed mentally as a wide smile appeared on the older woman's face.

"Did you hear that, Curarpikt? You should take her to one of those Year's End parties along the shore or in one of those skyscraper restaurants."

Curarpikt blinked, clearly taken aback. He had been reaching for the plate Matiy was handing him and nearly dropped it in his surprise. "What? Me?"

"Sure!" Weirna beamed. "I doubt you have any plans. I bet you were just planning on staying home and reading and totally ignoring the coming of the New Year."

The blond frowned slightly. "Actually, my roommate is dragging me out someplace to watch the fireworks."

"Oh, really? Did he say where?"

"He reserved a room at someplace called… The Foaming Wave."

The woman's smile widened. "Wow, fancy. Your roomie must be loaded to be able to get a room there."

"That fancy?" Matiy asked. She raised a brow at the young man teasingly. "Sounds romantic."

Curarpikt responded with a mock glare. "He's invited some business associates into town for Year's End." His glare turned into a slight pout. "He didn't tell me until this morning."

"Not that you would have had other plans, I bet," Weirna said knowingly.

"Um… well, no, I suppose not," the blond admitted sheepishly.

"But, well, I guess that means you couldn't take Matiy," Weirna said disappointedly.

No, but she would know how the evening proceeded.

Quwrof had stopped by the Ryodan's lair yesterday and informed them of his contact with Hyskoa. In two weeks, he would be giving the bastard his desired battle.

Meanwhile, while the decision would be his to make in the end, he wanted the input of the members. Kill Curarpikt, let him be, or bring him into the Ryodan. Despite her own change in feelings, she had been somewhat surprised by the way the vote had gone.

* * *

_"We had originally planned on killing Curarpikt. However, circumstances have changed."_

_"Hell, yeah," Nobunaga grumbled. "Still not exactly sure how."_

_Quwrof gave each member present a long look. "I no longer wish to see Curarpikt dead."_

_"You'd rather see him in your bed," Syarnorke quipped, just as Matiy had expected him to. Phynkss snorted loudly._

_Their leader raised a brow at Syarnorke, and the younger man settled back against the wall, fighting a grin. "Yes," Quwrof admitted, "but that is irrelevant. I simply believe it would be a waste to kill him."_

_"He _is_ the only remaining Kuruta in the world," Chzzck said thoughtfully, as if she were realizing it for the first time. Matiy rolled her eyes – with Chzzck, it was entirely possible._

_"I'm fairly certain I know where all of you stand, but I would like to confirm," Quwrof continued. "Is there anyone who wants to see Curarpikt dead?"_

_The dark-haired man scanned the faces in the room. After a long moment, he made a soft sound in his throat. "Hm. We seem to have a consensus."_

_Syarnorke was grinning widely. Nobunaga looked embarrassed. That wasn't entirely a surprise, but she hadn't expected the swordsman to change his mind quite so quickly._

_The one that surprised Matiy was Heytun. He was the probably the most ruthless of them all._

_"Really?" she asked, directing her question towards the short man._

_Heytun shrugged. "Not worth it."_

_"Well, then," Quwrof said, sounding immensely pleased, "we only need to decide what to do with him."_

_"Hold on, Dancho," Nobunaga protested. "Just because I don't want to kill him anymore, doesn't mean I'm willing to welcome him into the Ryodan!"_

_"I agree… with Nobunaga," Heytun said, the words leaving his mouth as if they were distasteful to say. Matiy hid a smile behind her hand._

_Their leader held up a hand. "I understand that. And again, while it is ultimately my decision, I would like your input. _All_ of your inputs."

* * *

  
_

So Quwrof had informed them that, anticipating the vote, he had called Fulunkln several days earlier and told him to get himself and the other two to Sonisco immediately. Judging by the clock above the espresso machine, they should have arrived in the city by now. Fulunkln, Vonnornoth, and Colhtophy would get to meet Curarpikt under the guise of a Year's End gathering.

Things were really starting to get interesting.

* * *

**A word from Mist:** I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I realized earlier this week that it'd been nearly a year since I last updated _Hunt for the Intangible_. I'd written the first part (scene between Quwrof and Hyskoa) shortly after posting chapter 13, but things fizzled after that. I've mentioned this before, but it's just so damned hard to write with my interest in _Hunter x Hunter_ at an all-time low. Damned never-ending Chimera arc!!! But, feeling shame after seeing the date of my last _Hunt_ post, I told myself, just commit to a direction and get it written, damnit! Yes, it might not be to where I'd initially planned, but if I commit, then the characters will eventually lead me to where they want to go.

I hope. Oh, hell, how I hope…

So, yeah, shortest chapter thus far, but at least it's progress.

Oh, and for those who haven't read **"Flowers For…?"** and also missed the mention of it in the Author's Note at the beginning of this chapter and were as a result confused about Nobunaga's references in this chapter, you might want to read it. It's the side fic I wrote about Nobunaga's adventures in a gardening shop, and it takes place right before this chapter.


	15. Chapter 15

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond.

Standard disclaimers apply…

**Hunt for the Intangible - Chapter 15**

**

* * *

**

Curse Quwrof.

Curse him for making Curarpikt wear fancy clothing. Curse him for forcing Curarpikt to go shopping with him for said fancy clothing. Curse him for thoroughly enjoying himself as he played dress-up doll with Curarpikt.

Just… curse him in general because Curarpikt was feeling out of his element.

Whatever that element was.

… It was a good thing that Curarpikt was apparently good at pretending he wasn't annoyed.

There were three men who had come from wherever to join them for the Year's End festivities, so they numbered a total of five. Just five in a huge room in a high-class restaurant with perfect views of the Year's End fireworks display scheduled to start before midnight. The practical side of Curarpikt thought it a great waste of money. The curious side of Curarpikt continued to wonder just how well-off Quwrof was. The antiques business was clearly quite lucrative.

Which left him wondering once more just what in the world such a man was doing rooming with a young bookstore manager.

But then, Quwrof seemed to have interesting tastes in who he chose to spend his time with. Of the three who came to Sonisco, one was an unnaturally huge man, another was a thin man who insisted on keeping himself covered up in bandages, and the last was also covered up – by bushy hair that hid his whole face and overwhelmed his short body.

What an odd trio.

They were all civil, though. The huge man – Fulunkln was his name – seemed genuinely interested in Curarpikt. He answered what questions he could and tried not to make the older man suspect that anything was odd – or incomplete – about his responses. For a man of his size, Fulunkln was surprisingly soft-spoken - although his deep voice rumbled – and had the sensibilities of a philosopher. The bandaged man, Vonnornoth, was more talkative than Fulunkln, but he seemed less interested in asking questions and more in simply making small talk. He, too, despite his appearance, was charming and quite friendly. And like the large man, Vonnornoth was also quite intelligent. The third, Colhtophy, was also not what his appearance implied, being remarkably normal and rather cheerful despite his somewhat… prehistoric appearnce.

People really couldn't be judged by appearances. His own appearance gave the impression, after all, that he was a dumb blond.

He was far from that.

What would these associates of Quwrof think if they knew the truth?

…He might be a ruthless killer.

Curarpikt had not had any other moments of remembering since the one occurence three days ago. Since then, he had gone back over that moment obsessively, despite having promised Quwrof that he would stop worrying about it. How could he not? He had killed a man! He didn't doubt that he had the ability to kill the kind of man from his memories. Training with Quwrof had shown him what he was capable of.

He was dangerous…

"Is something wrong?"

Curarpikt grimaced, Fulunkln's intrusion into his thoughts making apparent what a dark turn they had taken.

"No, I'm fine," he assured the large man. "Just a bit tired."

Fulunkln smiled at him and moved away to converse with Quwrof who was accepting another drink from a waiter. Curarpikt was then joined by Colhtophy who was carrying two small plates of a colorful appetizer.

He should still probably be cursing Quwrof for throwing him into a situation so ridiculously extravagant. But Curarpikt had to admit that an evening with pleasant people capable of interesting conversation was probably just what he needed to distract himself from his worries.

Which was most likely exactly what his roommate had intended for him. The man really was a good friend.

Curarpikt smiled at Colhtophy and accepted a plate.

He might as well make the best of the situation and enjoy himself.

* * *

Curarpikt appeared to have forgiven Quwrof. Or, at least temporarily forgotten that he was mad at him for dragging him to a social gathering with such short notice.

Quwrof smiled briefly at the sight he would have never imagined seeing – a Kuruta chatting amiably with a group of Ryodan members. He felt fairly optimistic that the whole group vote would be in favor of letting Curarpikt live. If even Nobunaga and Heytun could change their minds about killing the boy, then the remaining three members shouldn't be a problem. Quwrof could already tell that Fulunkln and Coltophy liked the blond's quiet humor.

So the main decision, then, would involve Curarpikt's memory and invitation into the Ryodan.

Quwrof himself was now leaning towards bringing the boy into the Ryodan. He knew that he wasn't willing to just walk away from Curarpikt. Despite hating to give up on a mission he had invested so much time and effort into, he did know how to cut his losses if he absolutely had to. But this wasn't about losing the original objective killing the Chain Guy. There was now unanticipated potential to be exploited.

And there were other unexpected facts.

He enjoyed his time with Curarpikt.

He _liked_ Curarpikt, beyond simple physical attraction.

He supposed that he could maintain a long-term association with the boy if he kept up his false identity of antiques dealer every time they met, but he was also both a practical and opportunistic man and could see so much potential in having Curarpikt as a part of the Genei Ryodan.

His memory, then.

Quwrof had new things to consider with the revelation that Curarpikt's Crimson Eyes could trigger memories, memories completely removed from his mind. How was that possible? The memories were no longer within his mind.

…Had Curarpikt accessed the memories contained within his memory bead?

Were the Ryodan to vote to not have Curarpikt remember his past, then the easiest way to take care of that would be to kill the nen-user who had stolen the boy's memories.

But if the Crimson Eyes could access those distant memories, then it made sense to consider that they were connected to the memories. So what would happen to the abilities involving the Crimson Eyes if Curarpikt's stolen memories were destroyed?

So much potential in those Eyes. Quwrof knew of some of the potential thanks to Phalc. Syarnorke had explained that they allowed Curarpikt to use all nen skills at one hundred percent. But there could be more. The Ryodan only knew what those young boys knew from having been told by Curarpikt while in Yorkshin.

And as long as the potential was unknown, Quwrof wasn't willing to just let it all go. That meant getting the Ryodan to accept bringing Curarpikt into their group without completely losing access to the boy's stolen memories. It would inevitably require a certain amount of deception, or the boy would never accept a position with them.

But…

Quwrof almost laughed at himself. He'd forgotten something he himself had suggested to the boy when Hyskoa had first appeared in Sonisco. There was no reason that Curarpikt had to be _recruited_ into the Ryodan.

* * *

All remaining Ryodan members assembled together again for the first time in a month. The newest arrivals to Sonisco stood before the seated Quwrof while the others sat off to the side, some in chairs, some on the floor. They still hadn't really bothered to furnish their lair.

"Who'd like to start?" the leader asked conversationally.

There was a moment of silence before Vonnornoth tilted his head. "He's smart. Brilliant, in fact."

"I'm aware of that." Quwrof shifted slightly and let his gaze roam over the three before him, then over the rest of the Ryodan. "What I want is your opinion on having Curarpikt join the Ryodan."

"Like he'd join once he knew what we do…" snorted Phynkss.

Quwrof held up a hand. "We'll worry about the how after we determine if we want him or not," the man said dismissively. "While it is my decision, I would like this to be unanimous, or at the least, very close to it."

"It's not going to be unanimous, because…"

"Yes, Nobunaga, you've made it abundantly clear that you don't want him to join us," Quwrof said flatly. He regarded the three before him again. "Fine. Let's start with the easier question. Do any of you feel strongly about killing him?"

Fulunkln shook his head. "I never felt the need to kill him in the first place."

Vonnornoth shrugged and Colhtophy nodded. "Me, neither."

Their leader nodded. He had known that, of course, or they wouldn't have returned to Ryusei City.

So it was unanimous. Not a one of the Ryodan members wanted the boy dead. That was a good start. As for bringing him into the Ryodan…

"However," Fulunkln continued, "I don't think that the boy is Ryodan material…"

"I don't know…" Colhtophy said, "He's smart, he's obviously skilled. …I like him."

"We don't have to like each other. Not all of us liked Hyskoa," Vonnornoth pointed out.

Matiy muttered under her breath in agreement, and Chzzck asked innocently, "Did _any_ of us like Hyskoa?"

The leader stood. "So Fulunkln is a 'no,' Colhtophy is a 'yes,' and…?"

Vonnornoth crossed his arms and stood silently for a long moment. "I have to say 'no,' too," he said eventually. "He's too… 'soft' isn't quite the right word, but… I don't see it as a good match. None of us will be happy, I think."

"Understood," Quwrof said. He let his gaze drift over the whole Ryodan. "That would make the majority of us in favor of having Curarpikt join the Ryodan." The objections came from Fulunkln, Vonnornoth, Heytun, and Nobunaga, and only Nobunaga's was remotely personal (although Quwrof had doubts as to just how sincere Nobunaga's objection was because he was beginning to suspect that the swordsman had started to feel something close to fondness for his former nemesis). The other three had made their decisions for practical reasons.

It was not a strong majority, but a majority nonetheless. And with Quwrof himself wanting Curarpikt to join, it was within his rights as leader to make that decision anyway.

So the two major opinions were that he was too moral to be a Ryodan member or that his intelligence, cunning, and abilities made him just what the Ryodan needed. The next detail would be…

"What about his memory?" Fulunkln inquired, bringing up Quwrof's next concern. "Do we pursue him regaining it, do we keep him from it, or do we do nothing and wonder if something might bring about its return, and worry about what could happen then?"

"Not just that, but if he joins us as is, then do we have to keep acting around him?" Matiy asked. "I'm getting tired of being 'nice girl,' you guys. I mean, I know I won't have to keep working at the café, but still…"

"Why don't we kill him?" Chzzck asked, tilting her head slightly.

Nobunaga turned on the young woman. "Weren't you listening? We just agreed to make him a member! Why the hell would we kill him?"

She shook her head. "No, I meant the man. The nen-user who took Curarpikt's memory."

The rest turned to stare at her.

"If he's dead, all the memories get lost, right? Then we don't have to worry about anything.

Syarnorke's jaw dropped, and he turned his gaze on their leader. "Huh. I'd forgotten you'd told us that."

Quwrof sighed. "Yes, I'd mentioned that, and I've since thought of it again. Recently, in fact." He seated himself once more and crossed his legs. Syarnorke was looking at him expectantly. "Assuming we decide that we don't want him to remember, that would seem to be the ideal thing to do."

"…But? I'm sensing a 'but' here," Phynkss commented.

"But I've recently been reminded of the special quality Curarpikt possesses."

"Oh!" Matiy exclaimed after several seconds of silence from the group. "His Eyes!"

He nodded. "Curarpikt had a flash of memory triggered by his Crimson Eyes. This would mean to me that the Crimson Eyes are stronger than another nen-user's ability. I don't want to risk losing any potential the Eyes have without knowing more. What if any unique abilities are tied strongly to who Curarpikt?"

"Meaning," Syarnorke jumped in, eyes wide with realization and understanding, "what if he ends up needing his memories to really maximize the potential of the Crimson Eyes…?" Syarnorke could always be counted on to understand things quickly.

"We don't know that," Heytun pointed out.

"No, we don't," Quwrof agreed. "Do we risk losing something with unknown potential? What if among any unique abilities, there are some that we would want to exploit for the Ryodan?""

Syarnorke quirked a smile. "Considering a kid his size took down Wberer with that 'unknown potential,' we could be playing with fire."

Quwrof smiled as well. "And since when do we run from a challenge?"

The other man's smile widened, his consent apparent.

"Let's summarize," Syarnorke said decisively. "We are no longer going to kill Curarpikt, so we don't _need_ to get him to remember his connection to us. We are actually going to have Curarpikt _join_ us instead." He ignored Nobunaga's snarl and continued. "That would be easiest if Curarpikt didn't remember us, of course. However, we don't know what permanently destroying his stored memories will do to the Crimson Eyes' potential, which is what we really want to be able to exploit, so we will _not_ kill the nen-user. Meanwhile, we keep Hyskoa away from Curarpikt so that he can't reveal Quwrof's true identity to him."

"Right," agreed Phynkss. Quwrof had assigned him and Heytun to keep an eye out for the former fake Spider and to challenge him if necessary to keep him occupied. With Nobunaga assigned to keep an eye on Curarpikt's daily commute, and Syarnorke and Matiy assigned to keep Curarpikt occupied when he was not with Quwrof, they should have all contingencies covered.

"In just under two weeks, Dancho will fight Hyskoa, and hopefully, he'll decide that's enough for now and will disappear again at least for half a year."

"I think it'd be easiest to just kill that memory thief," Nobunaga said crossly.

Heytun's features scrunched in displeasure. "I hate that I keep agreeing with Nobunaga, but… Is any potential really worth it? If it's so unknown?"

Quwrof levelled a look at the two. "I'm not willing to lose something of possible value without knowing more. That's not up for negotiation."

Heytrun shrugged, and Nobunaga crossed his arms, clearly annoyed.

"Yeah, yeah, but what about Matiy's point? He's not going to join if he knows were big, bad killers," Phynkss gestured mockingly with his hands, "but I agree about not having to keep up the act."

"What act?" Matiy muttered. "You've been your usual jerk self around the boy."

Phynkss flipped his finger at her and flashed a wide grin.

Quwrof raised a brow. Really, the Ryodan could be so childish at times. "I'm sure you're all mature enough," Phynkss directed his grin to Quwrof then, "to maintain any act as long as necessary. But you all seem to be ignoring another option."

Of course, he himself had forgotten that he'd even considered this other option, having been just as set as the others on the idea of recruiting Curarpikt into a sham version of the Genei Ryodan.

"What?" Nobunaga demanded, arms still crossed.

"Oh, I think you'll like this one."

* * *

Curarpikt looked up quickly at the knock on the door. Quwrof had left a few hours ago to take his three visiting clients on a shopping expedition to Paan, and Curarpikt wasn't expecting him back until late evening. Besides, Quwrof had a key.

Syarnorke stood on the other side of the door, and Curarpikt stared at him in silent surprise for a long moment.

"Hi," the older man finally said with a bright smile. "Sorry to show up unannounced, especially on your holiday, but I thought maybe we could go have lunch?"

Curarpikt blinked several times before recovering his wits. "Oh, I don't normally work weekends, so it's not any different from any other Saturday," he responded with a shrug and a smile.

Syarnorke looked past Curarpikt into the small apartment. "Your roommate's not home?"

He shook his head. "No, he's gone for the day."

"So, what do you say? I found this cool café with a décor made to look like an old library. I thought of you immediately."

That definitely sounded intriguing. Curarpikt found himself agreeing, and a few minutes later he was in Syarnorke's car.

The café, Ex Libris, was practically on the other side of town in an area Curarpikt would have never made it to on his own. As Syarnorke had described, the place looked like a library, only with small café tables spread here and there. Customers were encouraged to read the books, and customers who had come alone were indeed engrossed in reading as they sipped their drinks or ate their food. It was a charming place, and Curarpikt was glad that Syarnorke had found it. He would have to tell Quwrof about it later.

It was quite crowded, possibly due to the New Year's holiday, so they were led through the interior to a door in the back. There was a brick courtyard with tables and heat lamps that would be appreciated this time of year. They were seated at a table in the far corner.

"Too bad we don't get to sit inside, but maybe another time," Syarnorke commented.

Curarpikt nodded as he perused the menu. It looked to be standard café fair, but many of the items were named after writers and poets. Definitely charming.

They had a pleasant lunch, and Curarpikt was reminded of how much he had enjoyed the last lunch they'd had together. Like Quwrof, Syarnorke was brilliant, and he knew something about just about every topic Curarpikt could think of. Syarnorke seemed to lean more towards the sciences and technology, and not history and literature, but he still had an appreciation of good writing. He was also cheerful and friendly, and he clearly had a mischievous side to him.

There might be a lot of uncertainty to his life, but Curarpikt felt fortunate that he had found good people in Syarnorke, Matiy, Weirna, and Quwrof.

Back at Curarpikt's apartment, Syarnorke pulled into an empty spot in the lot. He cut the engine and remained seated, looking out across the dash with a pensive look on his face. Curarpikt watched him, puzzled.

"Thanks for inviting me to lunch," he said, leaning forward slightly to peer into Syarnorke's face. "Do you want to come up?"

The older man turned a serious expression on him. "I actually came to see you today for a reason other than lunch."

Curarpikt leaned away, slightly alarmed at the tone. "…Syarnorke?"

"I wanted to talk with you about something important."

"…What?"

"The Genei Ryodan."

* * *

**A word from Mist: **

Well, the trend seems to be to have months of no inspiration followed by a spell of mad writing triggered by guilt or motivation or both. This time, I'd gotten to a point where I was _this close_ to dropping the whole fic because my frustration had grown so much. I received a note a while back that pointed out a few things that, while absolutely appreciated for reminding me of something I had forgotten about my own fic, presented a quandary. It forced me to really, really consider my plot which had shifted from the original plan, and that had me almost unable to get the fic back on track. And then a recent PM reminded me that I have great, patient fans who want to know the rest of my story. So, I ignored RL for a bit (which I will, alas, pay for!) and sat down to really get this fic back on track, carefully considering what the first PM had brought up, and I think I now have it pointed back in the right direction. Many, many thanks to those two readers without whom this chapter possbily wouldn't have happened. And to all of my other angelically patient readers as well. You are all so wonderful!

Of course, having figured out the path (which really has changed drastically from my initial plot) doesn't mean that I'll send this fic down it smoothly or quickly, so again, I hope you will continue to be patient with me. My track record of slow updates will most likely not change, especially with a job that keeps me so busy and drains me mentally.

-Mist 10/2/10


	16. Chapter 16

**Warnings**: This fic is rated for language and occasional adult content. Familiarity with _Hunter x Hunter_ and its nen concepts are necessary.

**Author's Notes**: I use the _Hunter's Guide_ spellings for the characters' names (see my bio page for details), and my characters are based on the comic, not the animated series, so Kurapika does not have blue/green eyes in my fics. This fic takes place a few months after Yorkshin and ignores most of the Greed Island storyline and beyond.

Standard disclaimers apply…

* * *

**Hunt for the Intangible - Chapter 16**

_What did he just say?_

"We should probably go up to your apartment for this," Syarnorke pointed out.

Curarpikt stared at the other man for a long moment before nodding silently and stepping out of the car. He walked in a daze, the taller man following a few steps behind. Once they were in the apartment, he gestured vaguely towards the table, and Syarnorke stepped past to sit in the further chair. Curarpikt stood at a loss before finally sitting across from the other man.

Syarnorke regarded him seriously for nearly a minute before sighing heavily. "I'm guessing by your reaction that you are at least familiar with the Genei Ryodan."

Curarpikt nodded.

"That's good," Syarnorke said with a slight smile. "We were concerned by how much you've forgotten, but knowing the Genei Ryodan isn't too bad a start."

"…You…"

"We've been watching you. So, yes, we know about your memory loss."

Curarpikt wasn't certain what to think or feel anymore, but he had a feeling that panic might not be the most productive reaction. He took a deep breath, preparing for the worst.

"Why have you been watching me? …Who _are_ you?"

"…What do you know of the Genei Ryodan?"

Curarpikt had a moment of déjà vu, recalling his conversation with Quwrof. "…Just what I've been able to research. Nothing is from my memory." He hesitated, but Syarnorke nodded encouragingly. "They are not as… evil? as public perception… But, a lot of the positive details sounded like propaganda. I can't believe that a group that kills can be that good, regardless of any charitable acts."

The older man chuckled at that. "Propaganda, huh? Well, all groups have some sort of an agenda, you know. The Genei Ryodan does have a secret agenda known only to its members."

"_Who are you_?" Curarpikt repeated more insistently.

Because by now, there was no way that he was going to believe that Syarnorke was the person he had been projecting.

Syarnorke grinned. "My name really _is_ Syarnorke."

"Yes, but who…"

"I," the man interrupted, friendly grin gone, "am the leader of the Genei Ryodan."

Which was exactly the worst thing that Curarpikt had been fearing.

"And we've been watching you because we needed to be certain that your memory loss was genuine, and not part of some ploy."

"…Because?"

Syarnorke tilted his head slightly. "Well, if someone had gotten to you to infiltrate our ranks, or you'd decided we were your enemy, we would have had to kill you."

Curarpikt took a deep breath before asking, "…And why would 'someone have gotten' to me?"

The other man raised a brow and smirked. "You were in the middle of a trial period to join the Ryodan."

Correction.

_That_ was exactly the worst thing that Curarpikt had been fearing.

"Don't look so horrified," Syarnorke chuckled. "I'll have to be seriously offended."

"…I… How do you expect me to react?" Curarpikt asked irritatedly. "You've just told me that I was trying to join a group of killers!"

"Only when necessary," Syarnorke pointed our reasonably.

"When is it ever necessary?"

"You know," Syarnorke said slowly, crossing his arms, "you were a good judge of that yourself at one point."

_Ouch…_

Curarpikt closed his eyes. The simple little world he had been living in for the past few weeks was being revealed as the sham it was. Everything about him had been a lie. He was an experienced killer.

"I…"

"You know I'm right."

He nodded slowly. "I… A few days ago, I remembered something. From my past. I… I had killed a man," he admitted miserably.

Syarnorke looked pleased. "So you are recovering your memory."

"No. Not exactly. I've only remembered that one incident."

"So you don't remember everything." He shrugged slightly. "But you remember that at one point, you made the decision to take a life."

Curarpikt nodded again, sinking into his chair and wishing he could disappear. "Why?" he asked in a whisper.

"Why, what? Why did you kill? Only you can answer that."

"No," he shook his head. "Why was I trying to join you? Did I tell you why?"

Syarnorke gave him a long look. "Curarpikt, you only ever join the Genei Ryodan if you believe in the Ryodan's ultimate goal."

"And that would be?"

The man shook his head with a slight smile. "No, you need to remember that for yourself."

Curarpikt sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that."

"Don't be mad," Syarnorke chuckled. "The fact that you've already remembered something is a step in the right direction."

He couldn't help the glare he gave the older man. "What do you expect of me?" he nearly whined.

"Nothing much," Syarnorke smiled. "How about we start with you meeting the other members?"

"W-what?" Curarpikt stuttered. "No! I'm…"

"Not ready?" Syarnorke offered. He sighed when Curarpikt nodded. "You know, waiting isn't going to make you any more ready."

He had a point. But… "I… just need some time to think about this."

The man shrugged. "What is there to think about? If you decide you want nothing to do with us now, you realize it puts us in a difficult position."

Curarpikt inhaled sharply. Of course. "I… I wouldn't reveal your identity or location."

"And how can we be certain of that?"

"…You can't."

Surprisingly, Syarnorke smiled. "Well, I'm a good judge of character, so I'd say that we can."

The blond blinked. "…Oh. …Thank you. So…?"

"So," the Ryodan leader said, leaning closer, "how about in exchange for my faith in you, you meet with us? You won't even have to meet all of us at once. We could start with two or three of us."

Put that way, so reasonably, it was hard to refuse. But still, if something were to go wrong, he would be outnumbered.

Syarnorke, sensing his obvious reluctance, said frankly, "We wouldn't ambush and kill someone who had agreed to meet with us, Curarpikt."

"But if you don't like the way things go, you'll hunt me down after?" Curarpikt asked wryly.

The man laughed. "See, you know how we think."

That wasn't entirely encouraging. But, Curarpikt had to admit that the man was being honest with him.

What was there to lose? If he didn't meet with them, he could become a target. If he did meet with them, he could still become a target, but he would at least know some of the identities of those who would be pursuing him.

And… meeting them could provide another trigger for retrieving his memories.

"Of course, I'm going to have to trust _you_ that I'll be allowed to leave this meeting alive," he pointed how.

"True," Syarnorke agreed. "And do you?"

Curarpikt regarded the man in front of him for a long moment. He had to be honest here as well.

"No."

Again, the man laughed. "Smart of you. I wouldn't either."

"But," Curarpikt added, "I like you. Which isn't exactly fair, you know."

Syarnorke just laughed more heartily.

* * *

They decided to meet in a neutral place at a time that others would be in the vicinity. So two hours later, Curarpikt found himself sitting next to Syarnorke on a bench in a park a few minutes' drive from his apartment.

"Relax, Curarpikt," Syarnorke chuckled.

"Right," he muttered, giving the man a dirty look. "Easy for you to say."

"These are all people you once planned on working with."

"…Right," he muttered more quietly.

"Don't look so glum." Syarnorke paused and stood. "Besides, you don't have a choice. They're here."

Curarpikt stood and faced the same direction as Syarnorke.

And his day abruptly got worse.

"…I should have known," he groaned.

Approaching them was a familiar-looking trio: a short man with dark, shoulder-length hair, a tall man with no eyebrows, and a young woman with her nose in a book even as she walked.

"Hey, now don't look that way, kiddo," the brow-less man said with a grin. "You aren't still mad about that time on the beach, are you?"

Curarpikt turned on Syarnorke. "You weren't kidding, were you, when you said that you've been watching me?"

The man smiled charmingly.

"This is Phynkss." The tall man flashed a grin at him "This is Heytun." The dark-haired man stared expressionlessly at Curarpikt. "And this is Chzzck."

The young woman finally looked up from the book. "Hi, again."

Curarpikt sighed heavily. Who else would end up being Ryodan members? Should he start suspecting everyone around him?

"So… you're all Genei Ryodan." He gave the young woman a careful look. She didn't look like someone capable of killing, but he knew by now not to judge by appearance.

He, himself, had killed a man, after all…

"Surprised?" Phynkss asked, still grinning.

"Of you? Hardly," Curarpikt snorted. "Of the others, maybe a little."

The tall man laughed. "I just might like you, kid."

Ignoring the annoying man, Curarpikt turned to Syarnorke again. "I was hoping that meeting some of the members would help trigger my lost memories," he admitted. "But this isn't going to help. I've already met them all before."

He didn't seem concerned. "Give it time. You've already remembered some things, you've said, so you're bound to remember more eventually."

"Yeah, kid, it just breaks my heart that you've forgotten what great friends we were," Phynkss threw in.

Curarpikt ignored the man. He heard Heytun snort a laugh.

"And even if you don't remember," Syarnorke continued, "there's nothing stopping you from making the decision as the present Curarpikt to join us."

"Nothing stopping me?" Curarpikt stared at the man incredulously. "Regardless of what my research has told me about possible philanthropy, you're still killers!"

"So are you," Phynkss pointed out.

"I know that!" Curarpikt exclaimed, expression pained. "And do I look happy or proud of it?"

"And you think _we_ enjoy it?"

"You, absolutely," Curarpikt said frankly to the tall man.

"He's got you there," Heytun chuckled, and Phynkss laughed heartily, saying once again that he might end up really liking Curarpikt.

The blond groaned in frustration.

"Syarnorke, I've met them, as you requested. I really don't think that I'm going to suddenly want to join you, not without knowing why I would have wanted to in the first place. And the fact that _they're_ members," he gestured towards Heytun and Phynkss, "makes it even _less_ likely that I'd ever want to!"

"Fair enough." The man tilted his head slightly and raised a brow at Curarpikt. "But we're going to be sticking around and continuing to watch you."

"Why?" he asked in frustration. "Can't you just forget I was ever interested and leave me be?"

Syarnorke shook his head firmly. "I don't think so."

That's what he'd figured, but he'd had to ask.

"So… where does that leave us?"

* * *

Well, wasn't this a bit of a moral dilemma.

Having parted with the Ryodan members, Curarpikt had been sitting in his living room, staring at nothing. Syarnorke had given him a day to think about his offer.

The offer?

Accompany the Ryodan on a mission, doing nothing but observing.

No matter what he saw occur, he would not intervene.

And what he saw would hopefully help him make his decision.

With another sigh, Curarpikt leaned forward and placed his head into his hands. He didn't think that he could stand around and watch if anyone in the Ryodan were to take an innocent life. Or even a not-so-innocent life.

And yet, if he didn't accompany them on this mission, what next? Syarnorke had made it clear that they would continue to watch him, and that should he decide to "abandon" the Ryodan, Curarpikt would most likely not live to regret the decision for long.

Was he willing to die without really knowing why?

…About as much as he was willing to watch an innocent die.

And, there was his damned… curiosity. Why had he wanted to give up part of his memories in the first place? What had happened to him? Or worse yet, what had he done?

Curarpikt was afraid that the only way to learn the truth would be to agree to Syarnorke's suggestion.

"What am I supposed to do?"

Maybe he needed a second opinion.

Or some reassurance, at least?

And there was only one person he could share this with.

He leaned back and tilted his head back, feeling his hair brush against the wall. At least one decision made, he closed his eyes to wait for Quwrof to return.

Fortunately, he'd spent so long sitting on the sofa and wracking his brain that he didn't have long to wait. He eventually heard the key and then the creaking of the front door.

After a moment, he heard Quwrof's puzzled voice. "Um, Curarpikt, would you care to tell me why you're sitting here in the dark?"

Curarpikt opened his eyes. He'd been so preoccupied that he hadn't noticed evening approaching.

"…It's not _that_ dark."

The man snorted. "Right. You're nothing but a dark grey lump on the sofa, Curarpikt." He stepped towards the light switch. "I'm turning on the light."

Curarpikt blinked several times at the sudden brightness. "…Thanks."

Quwrof set down a full plastic bag – it looked like he'd picked up dinner – and moved over to sit next to Curarpikt on the sofa.

"Okay, Curarpikt, talk to me."

He regarded the dark-haired man for a long moment, thinking how fortunate he was to have been found by someone who was so good at being a friend to him.

"I… I need your advice."

"Certainly."

"I…" Curarpikt hesitated. "I had lunch with Syarnorke today."

Quwrof tilted his head slightly in thought. "…Ah, the man who drove you home from the bookstore. I didn't know you'd made plans."

"We hadn't. He found a place I might enjoy, so he came to invite me."

At Curarpikt's pause, he prompted with,"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Enjoy the place," Quwrof responded, slightly exasperated.

"…Yes, but that's not the point!" Curarpikt threw his head back, cringing as he hit it against the wall behind him.

After a moment, Quwrof sighed and said, "Are you going to tell me the point? You said that you wanted my advice."

He lifted his head and looked at Quwrof. "…I do want your advice." Still, he continued to hesitate.

The man rolled his eyes after another long moment. "So… Syarnorke wants to date you, and you're having a sexual identity crisis?"

"What? No! I'm not having some sort of identity crisis!" Curarpikt bit down as he realized what he'd said.

_Idiot, you _are _having an identity crisis! That's the whole problem here!_

He nearly laughed, but he stopped himself, afraid that it would turn hysterical.

Quwrof raised an amused brow at him, clearly realizing where Curarpikt's thoughts had gone.

"I'm not having a personal crisis over my orientation," Curarpikt corrected in a mutter, glaring half-heartedly at Quwrof's soft chuckle.

"So you're afraid of breaking my heart if you agree to date Syarnorke?"

"Syarnorke does _not_ want to date me! He's…!" Curarpikt nearly groaned out loud in frustration. Why did this have to be so difficult?

"…He's…?" Quwrof prompted.

"He's… the leader of the Genei Ryodan." Curarpikt finally admitted, his voice nearly a whisper.

Quwrof's eyes widened briefly. He pursed his lips slightly and said. "But I'm guessing this is not the main point that's bothering you."

Curarpikt's shoulders slumped. "…Yes."

Having gotten the first big fact out, he found it easier to continue with the rest. Quwrof did not look surprised at Curarpikt's revelation that he had apparently been in a trial period for the Ryodan. But then, he hadn't seemed surprised or upset that Curarpikt had killed a man. He'd been quite practical about that, actually.

And that was why Curarpikt wanted Quwrof's advice.

"What should I do?"

"Do you want to go?"

"No! But…"

"But if you don't go, you might be giving up your only lead."

"…Yes."

And learning about himself was what had driven him to agree to the meeting in the first place. Knowing of his past involvement with the Ryodan, it seemed even more important now to learn some truths.

"There's also the fact that they'll probably kill you," Quwrof added casually.

Curarpikt chuckled at the man's tone. "Yes, there is that."

"So you should go."

He sighed. "That's what I figured, too. It's just… What if they do things I want to stop?"

Quwrof leaned back and quirked a smile. "Curarpikt, you're going to do what you feel is right."

He sighed again. "Yeah, I know…"

"Just know that you'll need to run for your life if you end up interfering."

_Oh, I know… _

"Or, you could take them on and destroy them?" Quwrof suggested with a mischievous grin.

Curarpikt just snorted.

* * *

"He's agreed?"

"Yes, he has." Syarnorke looked pleased.

Matiy could see why. It meant that they were one step closer to getting Curarpikt to willingly join the Ryodan. But…

Syarnorke regarded Matiy shrewdly. "What's on your mind?"

She shrugged. "Nothing specific. I just see… so many things going wrong with this."

The man had the gall to laugh. "Of course you do!"

Matiy stared at him in disbelief. "You…! You're enjoying this, aren't you? You think this is… some kind of challenge!"

She would expect that of Quwrof, but from Syarnorke, it was a bit of a surprise. He was more the type to get serious satisfaction from having everything planned perfectly and executed smoothly. Well, Quwrof was like that as well, but the leader also had an appreciation for the unexpected and for the irony found in situations.

"Well, you have to admit, it is," Syarnorke grinned.

She pointed a finger at the knuckleheads sitting against the far wall. "They!" she emphasized, "are going to ruin everything! There's no way that they can follow the script."

Phynkss and Heytun grinned at her. Phynkss waggled his brow ridges as well, making Matiy want to stride over and bash his face in.

"What script?" Chzzck asked from her corner, briefly looking up from her latest book.

Matiy raised her arms in frustration. "That one, too!"

"Maybe, but you agree that it's better for you to continue to hide your identity from Curarpikt," Syarnorke pointed out.

"Yes, I agreed," Matiy growled, "but that doesn't mean I'm not going to worry about how the 'mission' goes."

"Don't worry. Things will be fine," the man reassured her.

"And if they're not," Phynkss added, "we could still just kill the brat."

"We voted not to," Matiy pointed out loudly.

Phynkss gave her a rather creepy smile. "No need to take it personally."

Matiy frowned, realizing that she had just glared at Phynkss for mentioning killing Curarpikt. She smoothed her expression, though, as she noticed Syarnorke giving her a knowing look.

_Damnit, how did things get to be so complicated? _

* * *

[A note from Mist]

Here is the way-overdue next chapter. As always, thank you, thank you, thank you to my readers! I've been negligent about responding to reviews this past year, but I read and appreciate each one! It's your reviews that keep me struggling with this, and it was the most recent review I received that lit the fire again and got me to finish the chapter. Thank you! I _will_ finish this!


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